Kappa Alpha Bimbo
by Hailey Ambrose
Summary: Aubrie Mizanin is a sociologist conducting an experiement for a degree.John Cena is a security specialist hired to find a corporate spy.Aubrie is number one on his suspect list after getting a job with Rose Cosmetics.Will love bloom for them?AU Fiction.
1. Chapter 1

This is my newest story. I hope you like it. It has been on my computer for a while. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or the wrestlers in this story. I own only my ocs. This story is fiction and is to be taken that way. No Copyright Infringement Intended.

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><p>"Am I a sexpot or what?"<p>

"Or what?"

Aubrie Mizanin laughed as she emerged from the Luscious Lingerie dressing room. "What do you think?" She thrust back her shoulders for maximum effect, straining the cotton threads of her cherry-red T-shirt. "Are these boobs or are these boobs?"

"I'd be really impressed." Her brother, Mike, observed dryly. "If more than fifty percent of them were actually yours."

"Very funny." She said, eyeing his own 40c's. "Considering yours are one hundred percent fa—"

"Hey, hey, hey, little sister." Mike said in his Michelle voice. He crossed his panty hosed legs, winced slightly, then uncrossed them quickly and stood instead. "Not in public. You wouldn't want to ruin my image, now, would you?"

Aubrie rolled her eyes, strutted past him to the store mirror, and stared at herself. "Wow. I'm built."

"Literally."

She scowled, but didn't answer him. The same blue eyes and mouse-brown hair stared back at her, but the sight of her artificially enhanced chest made her look foreign.

"Michelle's" pumps clicked on the tile floor as he clanked up to her and took in her image over Aubrie's shoulder. "Kinda makes you feel a little wicked, eh?"

"Wicked's not what I'm going for." Well, not completely anyway.

"Then you probably don't want them so pointy. Pointy definitely says 'wicked.'"

"What says 'bimbo'?"

"Cleavage. Lots of cleavage."

Aubrie glanced to her left and saw the store clerk eyeing them strangely. She could just imagine what the girl was thinking. "Back off, bro." She whispered over her shoulder. "People will talk."

Mike stepped back and glanced around. When he spotted the clerk, he gave her his best Michelle smile. "Would you be a dear and bring us one of your Pump You Ups?"

Aubrie was almost positive she didn't want to know, but she asked anyway, "What in Hades is a Pump You Up?"

"You'll see."

"Sure." The girl said. "Any particular color?"

"Oh red, definitely red." Mike said. The girl smiled and left.

"Doesn't she need to know what size?" Aubrie asked.

"No."

"Dare I ask why not?"

"It's all in the pump, toots."

"The pump." Aubrie said faintly. "This doesn't sound good."

"It's painless, I promise."

Aubrie glanced at her brother, dressed in his Michelle drag attire. It always amazed her how he fooled so many people with his female persona. Even with the wig and makeup and Donna Karan numbers, he still looked like Mike to her. How no one else had caught on all these years she couldn't fathom.

"Why are we Michelle today?" She asked him.

"Board meeting." He said, scowling as he took in his appearance in the mirror. "God, I hate this getup."

"I thought you said it would be over soon."

"Three months, two days, and eighteen hours, but who's counting?"

"How are you going to do it?"

"Michelle's going to send out a company-wide memo announcing a mandatory meeting. And then me, as me, will tell them all that their CEO has decided to seek new horizons and has named me, her general manager, to take charge."

Aubrie turned from the mirror. "You hate this charade. The company's doing well. Why are you keeping it up?"

"Because I feel obligated to my backer. He wanted a woman in charge; he got a woman in charge. Once I pay him off, I'm free. No more Michelle."

"I hope no one will fault you for the tiny deception if they find out the truth."

"Tiny?" Mike snorted. "Baby sister, I've been wearing drag for almost five years now, and I'm mighty sick of it."

Aubrie truly sympathized. Even though Mike had to don panty hose only on rare occasions, she knew how much he hated the ruse. So she quickly changed the subject. "Thanks again for letting me do my experiment at Rose Cosmetics." Aubrie said.

He waved. "Anything for my kid sister. But tell me, why are you doing this again?"

"Pure research." Sort of.

"Doesn't sound very pure to me, brainiac. Or scientific. Besides, you already turned in your thesis."

"It's not meant to be scientific. It's more like a case study. The sociologist in me wants to test a theory." Sort of.

"Testing a theory is going under cover as a busty bimbo?" He looked pretty skeptical.

Aubrie shrugged, but didn't respond. If she were totally honest with her brother, she'd have to admit that part of her just wanted to see how the other half lived. Being a bookish, lackluster nerd had begun to grow old after twenty-eight years.

"What's the title of your masterpiece again?" Mike asked.

"'An Ad Hoc Inquiry into the Contribution of Physical Presentation Toward Vocational Advancement Opportunities.'"

"Uh-huh. Translate that into English please?"

Aubrie threw back her shoulders and faced the mirror once again. "Who gets the job? The busy bimbo or plain-Jane Aubrie."

"One of these days Gramps and I will be able to convince you that you're beautiful just as you are."

"Sure you will." When hell hosts the Winter Olympics.

"Barrett will not hire the bimbo."

"Oh, I can almost guarantee he'll hire the bimbo."

"What's the bet?" Mike asked, waggling his Slap-on nails. "My company hires only the best. Barrett's not going to go for the busty-bimbo routine."

"I'm betting he will." Aubrie said, always ready to kick her brother's butt in any wager. "Name the stakes."

"Hmmm. All the laundry for one month?"

"Not a chance. I'm not washing your panty hose."

"Like I'd have a good time laundering your sweats. You don't exactly come home in pristine condition after your morning torture."

She could argue, but she'd lose. "Okay, how about this? If I win, you out on a date with the woman of my choosing."

"A blind date? I don't think so."

"You need to get a life, bro."

"Yeah, and you're just painting the town red. When was the last time you had a date?"

Aubrie was pretty sure it had still been the twentieth century, but enough about her. It was about time for Mike to find a good woman. He'd been working too hard for too long. Especially those times when he'd had to work in heels. "I win, I set you up."

"I win, I set you up. In fact, I know just the guy. He's doing some contract work for me at the office."

Aubrie hesitated only for a second, because she was fairly darn sure she'd win. She stuck out her hand. "Deal."

While Mike fidgeted in his girdle, Aubrie admired her bust in the mirror once more, strangely feeling like it changed her in some intrinsic way. "This being-built thing feels really different."

Mike frowned, looking like he wanted to argue her decision once again. But then he just shrugged his shoulders—which in Aubrie's opinion were way too wide for anyone to believe he was actually a woman. But he'd been fooling people for years now. People apparently saw what they wanted to see. And since Michelle was supposed to be Mike's twin, people figured the resemblance made sense. At least, that was the only explanation Aubrie could figure.

"When do your interviews start?" He asked.

"The busty, blond bimbo's is Monday morning. I'm Monday afternoon."

Mike laughed. "Oh jeez, Gramps is probably going to have a seizure. It's bad enough that his only grandson dresses in drag."

"He already knows about the plan." Aubrie said. "He's trying to be real twenty-first century about it. Besides, he understands it's just an experience."

"He probably heard Oprah—oh damn," Mike said going stiff.

Aubrie followed his gaze to spot a gorgeous brunette entering the store. "Someone you know?"

"Unfortunately. That's the crook, Nicole Miller."

"Nicole Miller? The president of Apple Day Cosmetics, Nicole Miller?"

"The one and only." Mike said, his voice coming out in a low growl that would have passersby wondering what kind of steroids Michelle Mizanin was ingesting.

"Uh-oh." Aubrie had heard plenty about Nicole Miller in the last few years. None of it flattering. "The competition."

"And the reason I just spent a fortune on a state-of-the-art security system. And why I had a setback paying off the loan. But soon this is all going to be over."

"A fortune on a security system. Why in the world?"

Another feral growl escaped his frowning lips. "That woman and Apple Day Cosmetics are just one too-small step behind us whenever we introduce new products."

Aubrie stared at her brother, whom she loved more than anyone else in the world, save Gramps. "You're not saying… she's stealing from you?" Indignation burrowed right up from her tummy to her throat. No one and she meant no one, messes with the only family she had left.

"Damn straight." He said. "And I'm going to prove it, and then Nicole Miller and Apple Day are going down hard. I almost relish the image of her wearing very unflattering stripes."

Mike glanced away and began to pretend great interest in a display of tiger-print thongs. But in the mirror, Aubrie could watch the woman behind her, and she knew the second Ms. Miller spotted him. The stunning lady hesitated a moment, then came strolling over with a grim smile on her face. "Well, hello, Michelle."

With a nasty smile of his own, Mike turned. "Nicole."

"I'd never have pictured you shopping at this store." The head of Apple Day Cosmetics said, her brown eyes shooting sparks. "Do they sell girdles here or something?"

"Taking time off from corporate espionage to get yourself some more edible underwear?" Mike countered.

"Ma'am." The sales associates said, unaware she was walking right into a minefield.

With a barely audible groan, Mike turned to the young girl. "Yes?"

She held up the glowing read item. "Here's your Pump You Up."

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	2. Chapter 2

"Holy shit! Check out this babe!"

John Cena, founder and owner of Cena Complete Security System, Inc., glanced up from one of the five computer monitors in the small but efficient security office. "Hmm?"

"Check this out! This babe is hot."

John wasn't real thrilled that Rose Cosmetics' new chief of security was into such unprofessional observations about employees and visitors to his company's offices. After all, the man couldn't be effective if he got sidetracked this easily. Not only that, John had recommended him for the job. But John would address the man's inappropriate comments in a moment. Right now he was just a little curious. In the few weeks they'd been testing the new security system Justin Gabriel had never had an outburst like this one before.

John stood and strolled over to the third monitor, the one Justin was transfixed to. It was labeled HUMAN RESOURCES.

John immediately understood why Justin's tongue was hanging out. Standing beside Wade Barrett's massive desk was Wade himself and a Marilyn Monroe blonde with beamers out to there and visible cleavage that could probably house a B-52.

Wowza! He sucked in a breath and silently paid homage to Mother Nature. She was the epitome of the type of women he was drawn to these days—unless that killer body also contained a sneaky mind, high ambitions, and a steel heart.

His initial reaction was that she was fairly tall, but he revised that conclusion when Barrett waved her into a seat and she crossed those luscious legs. That was when he noticed the bright red stilettos that probably added at least four inches to her stature. Between that and the highly teased hair, her height was deceptive. Without them she probably rang in at around five-foot-five.

She was slender. Almost too slender for that chest of hers. She wore a fitted red skirt and jacket—the kind of jacket that had only one button on it, at her waist. He sure hoped, for her sake, that the threads on that button were the extra-strength variety. Or maybe not.

The outfit—suit or not—was less than demure. Men would have a hard time keeping their minds on balance sheets around this woman.

John reached down and pressed a couple of keys, pumping up the volume a few notches. "Go monitor lab two, Justin."

Justin made a barely audible smirking sound, which John ignored. He sat down and typed commands into the keyboard, signaling the video camera hidden in the office to zoom in on the woman. He could argue that his FBI training taught him to catalog her features, but he wasn't into lying to himself as a rule. Any red-blooded man would take a minute to admire this woman. Below that teased blond look, she had a pretty, sloped, unlined forehead, brilliant eyes, and a pert nose. Her skin was soft-looking, and her neck was long and smooth, just the right kind for a man to bury his face in.

While she waited in silence, probably while Barrett reviewed her resume, he watched her fidget just a little, tugging on the bottom of her suit jacket, her foot jiggling nervously. That was when he noticed one of the sexiest things about her—and that was saying plenty, considering the rest of the package—a delicate gold bracelet encircling her left ankle.

Not that he'd never heard of ankle bracelets before; he'd just never seen a woman actually wearing one. Visions of chains encircling her hands and ankles danced through his head. He was so distracted by the enticing images that it took him a while to realize the interview had commenced, and he must have missed the opening pleasantries.

"It would seem, Ms. Morgan that you've worked in many, many places."

"Oh yes indeed." The woman said in a breathy voice that would have made Marilyn proud. "In my youth, mostly. I was trying to find my calling."

John snorted. "Couldn't hold down a job." He interpreted.

"Waitress. Hat-check girl. Aerobics instructor…" There was a pause right then and John could just imagine the same thought flitting through Barrett's mind that was crossing his own: how in the hell could she jump up and down without her breasts smacking her in the face?

"…boat expo model…"

"That one came close to being my calling." Ms. Morgan, did he say her name was?—chimed in.

"I see." Barrett said in a voice that sounded strangely strangled. "Short-order cook."

"Too much grease."

"Flower delivery."

"Fun, but not much room for advancement."

"Ms. Morgan, you do realize that this job involves a lot of typing and filing."

"Typing? Filing? Is that what administrative assistants do?"

This was the point where John, were he doing the interviewing, would force her to recite her ABCs.

"And answering the phones."

"I can do that!" She said with a breathy, triumphant squeal.

"Well, that's good. But the problem I'm having is that, although your resume certainly shows you to have a varied background in the workforce, none of these jobs actually trained you for this position."

"I learn fast!" The woman leaned forward, probably giving Barrett an eyeful. "And I really need this job, Mr. Barrett. I'd be so grateful if you gave me a chance. You won't regret it."

"Well—"At that moment, Mr. Barrett's phone buzzed. He picked it up and spoke softly into the receiver while Blondie squirmed some more in her chair. But John was an expert, in his opinion, of judging people in stressful situations. After interrogating hundreds of crooks during his years with the FBI, he knew uncomfortable from guilty in a heartbeat.

This wasn't just a woman squirming because she'd squeezed herself into an outfit that was at least one size too small. This wasn't a woman who was worried about the impression she was making. This was a woman who had deception written all over that pretty little forehead of hers.

His senses began to tingle, and it wasn't from the face and body that wouldn't quit filling his field of vision.

Barrett dropped the phone into its cradle and stood. "If you'll excuse me a moment, I have a matter to clear up. It won't take more than a minute."

"Take your time, sugar."

John rolled his eyes. The woman had just committed suicide. But once Barrett stopped staring at her as if she'd beamed down from Mars, he cleared his throat, fidgeted with his tie, then marched out of the room.

John hit a few more buttons, and the camera zoomed in closer. If he wasn't mistaken, the woman had a bead of sweat running down her temple. She swiped it away. At the same she uncrossed her legs and kept adjusting the back of her skirt. Or what was underneath it.

Suddenly she began muttering under her breath. Too low. He adjusted the volume even more. "…damn idiot probably couldn't remember the color of my hair, much less my eyes." She grumbled, scratching at the moisture on her temple. While she scratched, that blond hair moved and he spied a flash of brown underneath, before she shook her head and adjusted her blond locks with a grimace.

The woman was wearing a wig.

She stood up and wiggled around, fussing with her butt area. "If Mike ever tries to talk me into thongs again, I'm killing him."

Her voice, he noticed, had lost the breathy quality. It was now almost gravelly with anger and disgust. And intelligent sentence structure. And she was wearing a thong. That information didn't exactly diverge from the persona she'd taken on, but he filed the information away just the same, merely because he could think about it later in greater detail.

"Whoever invented this equipment deserves to hand in it." She said, and then began adjusting her cleavage.

Adjusting her cleavage?

John's eyes almost bugged out as her cleavage actually moved. Not in normal ways, either. Up down, left, right—she was itching her way through a mound of what was supposed to be her and it wasn't' shifting naturally.

"Marilyn Monroe" was so uncomfortable that she stuck a pen down her jacket while muttering swear words a good girl probably wouldn't even know. This might not be a good girl, so that was understandable. Except this girl wasn't actually pronouncing them; she was spitting them out one letter at a time. And they were pretty complicated ones, too. Then at the end of each one, she kept saying. "Sorry, Gramps. I'll make dinner tonight."

Personally, if John got them right, he thought Gramps—whoever he was—wasn't who she should be apologizing to. Unless Gramps had a really, really strong link—straight to the Maker.

John was fixated on this woman. She wasn't anything like the bimbo he'd just heard being interviewed. She was not an idiot not even qualified to deliver newspapers.

He stared in fascination, as she kept digging into her cleavage with a pen, until a sudden szzzzzzzzzzzzt sounded loudly through the speakers, and he watched a breast made in heaven deflate right before his very eyes.

The woman looked distressed. She couldn't be more disappointed than he was, seeing that a fantasy of his had just burst louder than that fake contraption that had his imagination running wild. But still, she appeared almost ready to cry.

He'd feel sorry for her but he'd had it with fakes. There wasn't a chance in hell he'd waste a moment indulging in the desire to comfort the fake blond bimbo who looked like she'd just lost her best friend.

The woman wiped away tears, all the while scrambling through her purse. She began stuffing her deflated boob with tissues, mints, anything she could stick in there. She even used her cell phone to pad herself.

God, he wished he had her phone number.

She looked lumpy as hell when she finished. And boy, she was finished. No way would this woman land the job. But he was landing her the moment she left the building.

His job was to ferret out the possible corporate spies Michelle Mizanin felt certain were either already working here or were trying to infiltrated the company. She was a prime candidate. A total imbreastinator, using cleavage to get the job done. How rude. What man could resist? She'd make the perfect spy

With that in mind, John went out to meet Rose Cosmetics' very first suspect.

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	3. Chapter 3

Aubrie wobbled out the front doors of Rose Cosmetics offices, muttering under her breath while trying to juggle a briefcase, her purse, and her stuffed breast. She was deep in thought, wondering whether Mr. Barrett had noticed her slightly changed appearance when he'd returned, mulling over how to satisfyingly murder her brother, staring down at her shoes, willing them to keep her in a vertical position until she could make it to her car and kick them off, when she ran straight into a rock-hard wall. And to her horror, that wall set off the cell phone stuffed in her right breast, causing it to beep three times.

With an "Oomph" she glanced up sharply, only to realize the wall was a chest, and her nose reached right to the center of it. The chest was clad in a denim shirt, which smelled faintly of a combination of sandalwood and—strangely enough—plaster. An odd but not unpleasant mixture.

"Excuse me." A deep, almost amused voice said, and Aubrie risked raising her chin slowly up, up, up, while she took in a male throat, nice chine, full lips tilted in something of a smile and then into a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes she'd ever seen.

And those eyes were crinkled in a smile that matched his lips, but with a glint of something a bit cynical that said he'd seen a lot in his thirty-four years. Not all of it Mister Rogers happy.

It suddenly occurred to Aubrie that her perusal had taken more than a couple of seconds, and she was still plastered to his torso, and if she wasn't careful, her second pump was going to burst from the pressure.

She scrambled backward about as gracefully as a warthog, and mumbled. "I'm sorry." As she averted her gaze to anything but the man. She felt her cheeks go fire-truck red. Her breast had beeped at him.

And he'd obviously noticed, as his gaze honed right down on it. "Funny, I've never heard of a woman arming her body with a security alarm before."

That was…..ummm, my cell phone. I didn't have any room left in my purse." She said, coming up with about the lamest excuse ever uttered, but quick retorts had never been her strong suit.

He was either a real gentleman or a moron, because he just nodded. "Women have so much to carry around with them. I don't know how you do it."

She voted for moron. Although a really cute one. If she were into dense stud muffins, she might stick around. "Well, if you'll excuse me." She said and moved to walk around him, concentrating on not toppling over on the damn shoes that were killing her.

"Wait!" He said, stepping right back in front of her again. "I haven't seen you here before. Do you work here?"

That was when Aubrie realized she'd forgotten to keep up the bimbo pretense in the embarrassment of the moment, and if she did miraculously land this job, he might be one of her colleagues. Although, considering his attire, she felt sure he must be in maintenance or something. No tie, denim shirt, and—after a quick glance downward—jeans said he probably wasn't on the board of directors.

She tried to think fast. She managed to meet his eyes again, and batted her lashes at him. "I'm sorry about being abrupt." She said, letting her voice go a teensy bit breathier so he didn't notice the drastic change right off the bat. Then again, if he bought the beeping breast bit…."I was just so mortified at not watching where I was going." Oh great, Aubrie, bimbos wouldn't know how to pronounce mortified, much less know what it means. You suck at this subterfuge business.

To her surprise, he thrust out his hand. "John Cena."

She hesitated before taking it. Then she held hers out, palm side down and said, "Charmed. I'm sure." Which managed not only to make her look like a Southern-bell hussy, but to make her purse slide down her wrist and drop to the brick walkway. It splattered open and everything inside bounced out, which included her wallet, brush, lipstick, face powder and about a dozen condoms.

Now she had bleating breasts and a horny purse. This was worse than anything she could possibly imagine.

Once again, the idiot didn't seem to see anything wrong with this picture. Aubrie wasn't certain why she'd packed the purse full of condoms, except that Gramps had told her it would set the mood, according to Beth's Sex Tips, a talk show he had embraced fully. According to Beth, a woman should carry things that would make her feel naughty. Since Aubrie hadn't felt naughty in all of her twenty-eight years, she decided to take the advice to heart. So on the way to the interview she'd stopped at a drugstore and stocked up on king-size condoms.

Aubrie was considering suing Beth at the moment. Since all of those condoms were causing a shiny glare, lying on the sidewalk in the early afternoon Northern Virginia sun, she had the feeling even this dumb-as-a-dandelion handsome guy couldn't fail to notice them.

"Come prepared, do you?" He asked.

Once again, her spontaneity skills eluded her. "My gramps says they're good for a flat tire." She said. Inside she cringed, waiting for the cynical laughter, witty comeback, smart-aleck remark. She got none of those.

Instead he asked. "Do you blow them up yourself?" And he really sounded sincere, and still dumb as a stump.

Breathing a sigh of relief that his stellar body didn't house a stellar brain to match, she gave him her best smile. She could handle this conversation. "I have good lungs."

It was a bad comeback. His eyes immediately reverted to her awfully un-balanced and sad-looking chest. She held her breath and tired to appear busty. When she was pretty certain she wouldn't be able to pull that off, she bent down to shovel her stuff back in her purse.

Another mistake. He bent to help her, which put his face right at a level with her one-sided cleavage. To the hunk's credit, he didn't ogle, just helped her gather her spilled belongings.

"You didn't answer me." He reminded her. "Do you work here?"

"Well, I'm hoping to." Aubrie said. "I just finished an interview. But I don't think I did very well." She chanced a glance at his face while she slowly stood. "How about you?"

"You could say that." He rose, too. "You still haven't told me your name."

Aubrie had to take a second to remember it. "I'm Candi Morgan." She said, letting her voice get just a bit more breathy. "That's Candi with an i, not a y."

"Hello, Candi with an i." he said and that slight grin was back. "It was very nice—and interesting—to run into your, so to speak."

"Thanks for your help." She said, wanting desperately to get away and get her own breasts back.

"Wait!" The clod said, taking her arm in a grip that wasn't punishing, but also was unrelenting. "I noticed you're not wearing a wedding ring."

"Aren't you Mr. Observant?" She snapped, and then nearly bit her tongue in half. Sticking to the script was proving difficult. A good actress she was not. And having foreign objects stuck down her jacket was making her testy.

Once again, her tone slipped right over his very tall head. "Does that mean you'd be free to have dinner with me?"

That question shocked her right down to her Pump You Up. "Pardon me?"

"Dinner. You know, meat, starch, vegetables."

"I don't think so. But thank you so much for asking."

"Why not?"

"I'm…busy."

"How do you know? I haven't picked a night."

"I'm busy most nights."

"If you don't want to go out with me, just say so. I won't be offended."

"I don't want to go out with you."

"Why not?"

Trying desperately to reprise her role as bimbo, Aubrie started batting her lashes at him. "Look, you seem nice. I'm just not interested"

"Are you involved with someone else?"

"No." She blurted before she thought it through. Damn honesty.

"Then why not have a free meal with me?"

This time she did think about it. Why not? Her social life was all but nonexistent, and the guy was definitely a looker. Dumb as a moon rock, but very easy on the eyes. And even though her thesis didn't include the effect of appearances in social situations, it would still be an interesting study. What would it be like to go out in public playing the part of a siren?

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	4. Chapter 4

She shot him what she hoped passed for a coy smile. "How do I know you're not a convict or anything?"

He laughed a low, rumbly sound that drummed in her belly. "Clean as a whistle, I swear. I'm just a poor working Joe who thinks you're pretty."

No one had ever told her she was pretty. Well, except for Gramps and Mike, but they were kind of required to say so. It sort of bit that she had to be disguised to finally receive that compliment, but it felt good, too. "Just dinner?"

"We could also take in a movie if you like. I'll even let you pick and won't complain if you choose a chick flick. I'm real open-minded that way."

She could happily punch him in the gut for that one. What kind of Neanderthal used the words chick flick? But she just continued to smile at him. Through a somewhat clenched jaw she said. "Actually, I prefer suspense thriller. Preferably with muscle-bound men."

She realized her mistake instantly, because he shot her a pleased smile. She wouldn't be surprised if he started flexing his biceps at her. The big clod.

"Perfect." He said. "When?"

"Next year?"

He grinned, which really annoyed her, because he was apparently too dumb to be insulted. "How about tomorrow night?"

"A Tuesday night? I don't know. I've got to work on my"—she stopped herself just in time from saying bra—"resume."

He quirked a brow. "I thought you said you'd already interviewed."

"I'm not sure I did real well today." She said. Now there was an understatement. She wouldn't hire herself to clean litter boxes.

"I'm sure you did just fine." The man assured her. He whipped up a killer smile. "Then how about Friday?"

This was about the dumbest idea she could possibly entertain. But there was that niggling desire to see how the public received Candi—with an i—Morgan. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind getting a free meal. Where?" She asked, figuring that, the way he was dressed, wherever he took her would a drive through window.

Then she mentally gave herself a slap. Not only was that an unkind thought, it was pretty judgmental. Gramps would be so disappointed.

"I'll surprise you." He said with a wink.

Aubrie had never liked men who winked. To her it had always signaled shorthand for a person who knew he was full of bull. But somehow his wink was cute.

"That would be kind of difficult." She replied. "If I don't know where I'm going or how to dress."

"I'll pick you up."

Not in this lifetime. "I'm sorry." She said between gritted teeth. She had a terrible feeling this was going to be a disaster. "But I have a personal rule. I take my own car on first dates."

His eyes narrowed for just a minute, then cleared, and the twinkle reappeared. He nodded. "That's very smart of you."

"Thank you. I don't hear that very often."

"Okay, how about Clyde's at Tyson's Corner?"

Okay, Clyde's wasn't a fast-food joint by any stretch. It also wasn't the swankiest restaurant. Actually, it was almost perfect choice. And considering it was known for being something of a pickup joint, it would give her lots of opportunity to observe reactions from men and women alike. "What time?"

"Seven?"

"It's a date, Mr…"

"Cena. John Cena."

"Candi."

"With an i. I remember."

"Bam!"

Aubrie rolled her eyes as she closed the door to her grandfather's Great Falls home. Either Gramps was emulating his hero, Emeril or he was watching a knock-em-down talk show. Gramps had two passions: cooking and talk shows. And he revered Paul Prudhomme and Jerry Springer equally.

Aubrie loved Gramps more than just about anyone, save Mike. But the man who had basically raised her and her brother had some really strange ideas of what constituted entertainment.

She shucked her torturous shoes by the door and walked the mile-long trek into the kitchen. "Mmmmm smells good. What are we having?" She asked, stretching up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"Thai Chicken."

"Mmmm." She said again, beelining straight for the antacid tabs that prevented heartburn before it began. Somehow she hadn't inherited Gramps's iron stomach. She glanced at the TV. A psychic was talking to some woman's dead great-aunt. "Why are you watching that, Gramps?"

"What, you'd prefer I watch soaps?"

"I'd prefer PBS. You could learn to paint or knit or be British."

Gramps—Edward James Mizanin to the IRS—grunted. "Why don't you just kill me now?"

Aubrie grinned and hugged him. "How was your day?"

"Jane thinks I should get in touch with my inner woman and Tabitha thinks men are pigs."

Aubrie didn't have a clue who Jane and Tabitha were, but it would be a pretty good guess that they worked the talk-show circuit. "There are merits in both arguments, it seems to me."

"Speaking of getting in touch with my inner woman, why are your….is your chest….lopsided?"

"I unpumped."

"I don't want to know." Gramps said, turning back to the oven.

"It's all Mike's fault." She said.

Gramps ignored that, as always. He'd gotten used to Mike and Aubrie pointing fingers at each other whenever they found themselves in hot water. And he had the annoying habit of shrugging his shoulders and looking disappointed until the guilty one confessed.

Which was what he was doing now. And Aubrie folded like a badly built house of cards. "Okay, so I popped a balloon by mistake. But Mike's the one who told me to buy the contraption."

"Sally used to say that you have to love the real you first." Gramps opined.

"It's just an experiment, Gramps." Aubrie spied a huge thingamabob she'd never seen before resting on the counter. "What the heck is that?" She asked to change the subject. "It looks like a spaceship."

"Food dehydrator. I'm making jerky, dried bananas, and dried tomatoes all at once. Sherry the Shining Chef swears by it."

"Uh-huh. Well I think I'll go change."

"Into yourself? Good. I like you better as you."

"Gramps, this disguise is just for fun." Aubrie shook her head and tried to figure out how to explain her compulsion. Gramps was such a forward-thinking man. Or he tried to be. But when he didn't like something, you knew about it. He bought weirdo kitchen tools and went mad concocting things. And that abomination in the corner of the kitchen was proof she'd probably upset him big time.

"It's an experiment. I swear. A social case study." And I just want to feel wild for a while.

"I don't like it' you're beautiful just as you are." He said, stirring the sauce in the pan furiously.

Which was why she didn't think she'd mention just yet that a complete stranger had asked her bimbo self out on a date. Worse, that she'd accepted. Gramps would be on the phone in a nanosecond ordering a solar-powered blender or something.

She hugged him once more. "I've got to go change. Aubrie has an interview this afternoon."

"You didn't say how the interview went."

"I'm a very bad sexpot."

"You're a very pretty brainy woman."

"You're a very sweet liar."

"Lord, no. You look so much like your mother. She was a beauty, all right."

Aubrie almost began to protest, but remembered that the first thing she'd done after driving out of Rose Cosmetics' parking lot was to tear off the blond wig. She smiled with pleasure. Although her real-life memories of her mother were fairly sketchy, Gramps kept tons of pictures of his only son and daughter-in-law all over the house. And though Aubrie didn't' think she came close to the ethereal beauty that was her mother, the compliment always warmed her. "Can I do anything for you, Gramps?"

"You can tell me why two young, gorgeous kids still stick around with their grandfather."

Aubrie's heart flopped. "Are you sick of having us here?"

"No, I love having you here. But I don't want you two hanging out here just to keep an old man company."

"We hang out here because the rent's cheap."

"I always taught you to be practical."

"Yes you did." Aubrie and Mike had made a decision long time ago to stay with Gramps as long as possible. They were the only family he had left, and he was all they had left. The house was huge, so it wasn't like they were stepping over each other. But they were there if he needed them and they had always needed him.

Not to mention, Gramps loved the home. It was where he had lived with Nanna for forty-five years and where' he'd raised his only son and then his grandchildren. It held too many memories to move. At the same time, it was becoming too big of a burden for him to keep up on his own, even as vital as he was at almost seventy.

As long as they could, they were going to make certain he was able to stay in his home. But heaven forbid he ever thought they stayed for any reason other than love. He'd kick them out in a heartbeat.

"I adore you." Aubrie said, hugging him.

"You should. I'm the only sane person in this house." He said as he lifted the lid on his latest contraption to check on his jerky.

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	5. Chapter 5

Later that afternoon John happened to be gulping down his gourmet lunch—which consisted of a bologna sandwich and chips, with the obligatory apple his sister always packed for him—when another candidate for the secretarial job marched into the HR office.

People had been pretty much parading in and out of the man's office all day, so John barely glanced at the screen. But then he did a double take. As flamboyant as Candi-with an-i was, this woman exuded librarian prissiness. Her silky brown hair, held back in a painful-looking bun, stretched her temples. She wore a beige suit that defined demure. Her feet sported sensible brown shoes. She was about as exciting as a virus. And he was getting kind of turned on by her.

Which made absolutely no sense. He was definitely female-deprived. To be turned on by a woman who had LAST FEMALE VIRGIN ON EARTH stamped on that fore—the forehead looked familiar.

Weird, he knew without a doubt he'd never met the woman. But he looked her over more thoroughly. And a gold bracelet encircling her left ankle had him almost chocking on his sandwich. Upon closer examination he also recognized that soft brown hair. He'd seen a glimpse of it earlier that morning, when a certain blond wig had slipped out of place.

He didn't know the chest but he studied it for a bit just because his training said he should. Then he chanced a glance lower. Oh yes, he knew those legs. He'd ogled them on a screen just this morning, watched them wobble across a parking lot soon after and had a date with them Friday.

Wow!

This was the same woman. He'd bet his 'vette on it. Why would she be showing up at the HR guy's office under two different guises? And which was real? Or was either of them?

He tossed away the apple—figuring he could truthfully promise Jamie that duty had called, and he hadn't been able to eat it all—and punched the button that gave him access to sound. He shamelessly listened in.

"Ms. Mizanin." The human resources director said, "I'm totally impressed with your resume. But I don't understand why you'd want to apply as an office worker when you're so highly overqualified."

"I'm looking to earn another Ph.D. I need to pay for it somehow. Trust me: I'll do well."

"I have no doubt. But I fear you might become bored."

"There's nothing boring about hard work, sir. Not when I have tuition payments due."

Same woman, different personas. Night and day. Bimbo versus scholar. Big chest—and he really resented that it was fake—versus a modest B-cup.

His instincts screamed at him. At best she was so desperate for the job she'd land it any way she could. At worst she was a spy, and not a very good one. And he was going to nail her—one way or another.

Ever since Krista, John had had a hard time trusting women. He realized it was almost ancient history, and he should be over it—and her—by now. Well, he was definitely over the woman. But the sour taste of her ultimate betrayal still lingered. So knowing that this woman was playing some kind of game really irritated him. Yep, he was going to nail her, all right.

Aubrie made her way out to the parking lot, trying to assess her success in this most recent interview. Mr. Barrett had been polite, but his skepticism beamed through loud and clear. She must have led a sheltered life, because she hadn't known there was such a thing as being overly qualified. Wasn't that a kind of reverse discrimination?

She glanced up when she heard footsteps approaching. There he was again. The hunk. What was he the parking-lot patrol guard or something?

He was heading straight for her, and Aubrie sucked in a frantic breath. For some reason she was more apprehensive facing him as herself than she had been as the blond bombshell. Probably because she didn't want to see the uninterested in his expression as he checked out the real thing.

But as he approached, she noted the definite sparkle in his blue eyes. The same sparkle he'd had earlier this morning. Maybe he just twinkled all the time.

Aubrie tried to break eye contact and swerve to his left, but he just swerved right with her.

"Hi, there. Are you new or just visiting?" He asked, planting himself firmly in front of her once again.

"Excuse me, but I don't talk to strangers." She responded in a voice that sounded prissy to her won ears. She tried to step around him, but the man was a mobile wall.

"Makes it kind of hard to make friends. You must be pretty lonely."

That was insulting enough—if not more than a little true—that she stopped glaring at his chest and tipped her head way back to glare into his twinkle. "If you don't mind—"

"For some reason you look familiar." He said, dimpling at her in a totally irritating and too-damn-cute way. "Have we met before?"

Uh-oh. "I'm sure we haven't." She said, figuring that wasn't' a lie, since she wasn't Aubrie the last time he'd swooped down on her.

In a déjà vu move, he thrust out his hand. "John Cena."

She ignored the handshake. "Would you mind moving?"

"To where?"

"Right now, anywhere out of this hemisphere would be welcome, but a few feet to my left will do."

"Answer one question and I'll get out of your way."

Aubrie had to physically stop herself from asking him if he made a habit of accosting women in parking lots "Is there a reason I should feel obligated to answer any question from someone I don't know?"

"To be polite?"

"Miss Manners I am not."

He grinned at that. "Look, I'm not accosting you or anything. I just saw you coming out and thought you were pretty."

"Right." Now she knew he wasn't' just dumb as a brick; he also had bad eyesight. Or was a terrible liar.

"And I'm not going to try any stupid pick-up lines. I swear. I was just curious whether you worked here, so I'd know if I might see you again sometime."

Hmmmm, he actually sounded sincere. "Do you work here?"

"You could say that."

Same answer he gave her this morning. She didn't have a clue what that meant, but she let it pass, because one question to her brother and she'd have her answer. She shook her head. "I don't know if I'll be working here or not. I just interviewed for a job."

"Good luck. I hope you get it." He said and actually stepped aside.

Aubrie was just dumb enough to be a little disappointed. The man had pounced on her as the bimbo, and was being polite to her real self. It was insulting, really. But a thought occurred to her. What would it be like if he actually asked Aubrie out, as Aubrie? Would he treat her differently? It would be an interesting and informative experiment.

Unfortunately, it didn't look like he had any intention of asking mousy Aubrie out. But why would he when she'd been so rude to him?

Aubrie had begun this experiment because she'd wanted to be bold and different for once in her life. Did she really have to be a clueless blonde to accomplish that? Couldn't Aubrie get up the nerve to do something very unlike her? She didn't know.

"Well if you do get hired, I'll see you around." He said as he began to walk back toward the building.

Aubrie took one step toward her car, then stopped and whirled around. "Wait!"

Mr. Cena dutifully turned back to her, his eyebrows raised. "Yes, ma'am?"

She took a deep breath. "My name is Aubrie."

His smile was actually a combination of gentle and triumphant. "Nice to meet you, Aubrie. Pretty name. It fits you."

She tried not to let that make her feel just a wee bit flattered, but it wasn't' working. Lord, she was pathetic. But that was going to stop right now. The new Aubrie was going to learn to take the bull by the horns.

"Would you like to have dinner sometime?" She asked, and then held her breath. This could be truly mortifying. How did men do this all the time?

He hesitated for a second, and then grinned. "I'd like that a lot."

Then to test him a bit to see how fickle he was and to see if he was just too polite to turn her down, she asked. "How about Friday night?"

Something sparked in his eyes, but then—a little too slowly—he frowned and shook his head. "I'm afraid I already have plans on Friday."

"Oh." Okay, so he wasn't going to dump the bimbo for her. Not surprising, but a little disappointing. "Okay, forget I mentioned it." She said, amazed at how much it actually hurt.

"I'm free Saturday." He said. "If you are."

Was he kidding? She hadn't had a date in years and suddenly she was going on two in a row. She had to squelch a happy grin. "As a matter of fact I am."

"Great. Shall I pick you up?"

Ooh, this could get sticky. "How about if you give me your address and I'll pick you up?"

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	6. Chapter 6

"Michelle Mizanin is stopping by tonight." John informed his sister, Jamie, who was busy peeling potatoes at the sink. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, nothing that today she had her Mickey Mouse sunglasses on. His favorites.

Jamie reached up and groped for his chin. When she found it, she grasped it, turned his head aside and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Who's Michelle Mizanin? One of your bimbos?"

John could easily take offense at his sister's comment if it weren't pretty much true. Jamie heartily disapproved of most of the women he dated. And he couldn't actually blame her. Jamie might be legally blind but she could sum up a person faster than anyone he'd ever known. "No, little sister, not one of my bimbos. She's the owner of Rose Cosmetics, the job I'm doing now."

"Wow! The owner? A woman with brains? Marry her."

"Ha. I don't think so."

"Why, isn't she pretty enough for you?"

John didn't know how to answer that. Michelle Mizanin was most definitely not his type. She wasn't ugly, but if there were female football teams, he'd bet she could try out. "She's….striking. Just not my type. And besides, she's coming here to discuss something pretty delicate. So you'll need to scram."

Having lived with him throughout his FBI days and now with the private security firm, Jamie understood delicate. She'd had to put up with lots of scrams.

She shrugged and said. "Okay."

"You're the best." John said, squeezing her shoulder.

"You'd better think so. I'm the only sane person in this household.

The doorbell rang about a half hour later and out of curiosity Jamie wandered from the kitchen to the foyer of their Fairfax, Virginia, home. She lamented that her brother was never going to settle down with the right woman. Ever since his disastrous relationship with his girlfriend at Quantico, he'd had a string of women in his life whose accumulated IQs probably qualified them to pass second grade.

She understood his reluctance to get involved with brainy, ambitious females but it was high time he got over it. The owner of a large, successful company sounded like a promising candidate.

"Hello, Michelle. Thanks for coming." John said.

"How could I resist with such an intriguing request?" An unfamiliar voice said. A very low unfamiliar voice.

"Michelle, this is my sister, Jamie. She's the one who's about to scram."

Jamie moved toward them, holding out her hand. "How do you do?"

Ms. Mizanin took it briefly and rather limply. "Likewise, wow, are you two twins? You look so much alike."

"That's an insult if I've ever heard one." Jamie said laughing. "No, I'm much younger than this idiot."

"Two years." John said his voice indignant. "Michelle is a twin, which is probably why she asked. Her brother Mike is general manager at Rose Cosmetics."

"Is that right?" Jamie said. "Well, before I skedaddle, why don't I show Michelle to your office while you get some refreshments?"

"Good idea. What would you like, Michelle?""

"What are you having?"

"Milwaukee's finest."

"That sounds lovely."

"Coming right up." John said and Jamie listened to his footsteps head toward the kitchen.

The moment he was gone, Jamie turned back in Michelle's direction. "Does my brother know?" She asked, with a smile that she hoped conveyed that she meant no insult.

"Excuse me?"

"If you're a woman, I'm a race-car driver."

There was a long pause. "How…I mean, I thought John had mentioned that you're—"

"Vision-impaired. Yes, I am. It doesn't take working eyes to know you're packing a whole lot more under those skirts than panty hose."

Another stunned silence. "Ummmm, I don't know what to say."

Jamie held up a hand. "No need to say anything. I'm not into judgments. Everyone has a right to his or her lifestyle."

"It's not what you think. There are reasons—"

"I'm sure. Seriously, it's not a problem at all. Really." She laughed. "No wonder you're not John's type."

"John knows."

"If he does, he hasn't said anything to me. But he's used to keeping secrets. You know the whole FBI thing." Jamie smiled ruefully.

"Well, if he does, he hasn't said anything to me, either."

"If he knew, he'd tell you." Jamie was sure of it.

"He hasn't said a word."

That news stunned Jamie. Very little got by her FBI spy brother. She boggled for a moment, and then grinned. "Oh, wait till he hears this. I figured something out before he did. I'm never letting him live this one down."

"Listen, Jamie, is it possible to ask you to keep this a secret for just a while longer?"

Jamie stopped grinning. "I'm not real big on lying to my brother."

"It wouldn't be a lie. Well, not really, I mean, he believes one thing and it's not going to hurt him in any way to keep on believing it for just a while longer. This is all going to be over shortly, thank God."

She cocked her head. The man had dropped his simpering voice and his disgust over the ruse was evident in his tone. "Why are you doing it if you're….you know, not into it?"

"I don't have time to give the full answer right now. I know you don't know me, but I'm asking you to trust that I have good reasons."

One thing Jamie had always trusted—relied on, really—was her instincts. She believed him. "Okay, I'll keep mum."

He took her hand and shook it in a grip that was all male. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. So, let me guess, you and your twin brother, Mike, are one and the same?"

"Right again."

"We have our first suspect."

The longneck in Mike's hand froze halfway to his lips. "Are you serious?"

John, sitting behind the desk in his den, nodded grimly. "Not a sure thing but a definite possibility."

"Who?" Mike asked, working hard to maintain his Michelle voice when his mind was filled with a haze of anger. "An employee?" Mike prided himself on having handpicked the majority of his employees before he'd hired Barrett to do the job and it hurt like hell to think he'd placed his trust in someone who would betray him. He'd worked hard to create a fun and proud work environment, one where people were excited to show up each day, where he often had to force them to use their vacation time. Betrayal was unthinkable. But it was the only explanation for Nicole Miller's success in staying only one tiny step behind him in the new products department.

John shook his head. "She's not an employee. At least not yet."

"She?" Somehow Mike had never considered a female traitor.

"It's a woman who applied for a job today. Twice."

"Excuse me?"

"Your human resources director held job interviews most of the day."

"That I know."

"One woman, in two different getups and bearing two different resumes, applied twice."

Mike considered himself pretty smart, but right now he was feeling a little stupid. "Huh? Why would someone do that?"

"To make sure she gets the job one way or the other?"

"Okay, did you get the names?"

"Yes?"

"Then I'll make sure Barrett doesn't hire her."

John shook his head. "On the contrary, hire her. Both of her."

He was getting dumber by the moment. "Huh?" He said again.

"The best way to keep an eye on potential enemies is to have them right where you can see them at all times. I say you hire her and I'll catch her."

Mike thought about that. He wasn't ex-FBI, but John's logic made sense. He pulled a yellow pad from his briefcase. "The problem is, I don't really have two jobs to fill."

John twirled a pen around as he thought about that. "How about hiring them both part-time for the same position? Tell them—that is, her—it's a trial period."

The haze suddenly cleared. One woman. Two different disguises. Applying for the same job. Aubrie, Mike had to force himself not to laugh.

"And let me tell you." John said. "I'm going above and beyond on this one, Michelle. I've got a date with both of her."

"A date?"

"Yes, I figured I'd get her into a more personal setting and see just what she's up to."

Mike opened his mouth to tell Cena about Aubrie's "experiment" but then closed it quickly. This could prove interesting. After all, when he'd made the bet with Aubrie over which of her personas would get hired, he'd had Cena in mind as the man she'd have to go on a date with. Not only that, but if he had Barrett hire both of her, she wouldn't exactly win the bet. Neither would he, of course, but they could call it a draw.

Oh she'd probably lop off his head if she learned that Mike had intervened in the hiring decision but in the meantime she'd be able to see how employees interacted with her as the two different females. And she'd be dating too.

It was a win-win situation as far as he could tell. He nodded as if he'd just thought it through and made up his mind. "Give me the two names."

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	7. Chapter 7

"So how'd it go?" Mike asked Aubrie two days later, as he walked into her study.

She glanced up from her computer screen, frowning. "I got the job."

"So why do you look close to tears? That's great!"

"Both of me got the job."

Mike went for the bewildered look. She was definitely going to kill him before this experiment was over. "Excuse me?"

"Barrett hired both of me part-time. A 'trial period,' he called it." She snorted in disgust. "Aubrie gets the morning shift. Probably because Barrett is thinking the bimbo doesn't wake up until noon. Candi works the last shift."

"That's perfect!"

"Yeah, how's that?"

"You get to continue to observe how people interact with both of you. Isn't that what you were looking for?"

She perked up a little at that. "That's true! And come to think of it, Aubrie can fix all of Candi's mistakes, so I won't be hurting Rose Cosmetics in any way."

"There you go."

She sat silent for a moment, and Mike knew that look. The cogs in her head were wheeling around double-time. Finally she crossed her arms. "You didn't have anything to do with Barrett's decision, did you, big brother?"

Mike scowled at her for effect. "You mean cheat on our bet? I'm insulted."

"But are you guilty?"

As charged. "If you think I have the time to tinker around in Barrett's business, you have no appreciation for what I do at my own company, brat. Not to mention I'm a little too busy trying to ferret out a corporate spy."

Aubrie grimaced and dropped her arms from her chest. "I'm sorry. It just seems so weird."

Mike refrained from commenting that her own experiment was a little less than sane, because she'd probably remind him of the Michelle thing. "I'm telling you, Barrett's good. He's probably hedging his bets."

"Could be."

Mike turned to go, but she stopped him. He turned back. "Yeah?"

"Do you know John Cena?"

He pretended to mull that over. "Name rings a bell. Why?"

"Doesn't he work for you?"

Definitely and he's expensive to boot. "Possibly. I try to remember everyone but we have a lot of employees, toots. Why do you ask?"

"He seems to hang around your parking lot a great deal. Is he the handyman or something?"

"Oh, sure, that's right. He's kind of a jack-of-all-trades. Does a little of this, a little of that."

"He does a lot of hitting on females."

Mike went for consternation this time. At this rate he could join the Screen Actors Guild. "Meaning what?"

"I have a date with him."

He shot her a look of pure astonishment. "You? A date? Let me mark this down in my calendar."

"Mark this down, you turkey. Both of us have a date with him."

"You and me? Really, Aubrie, I'm not into that."

"No, dummy, Aubrie and Candi."

Mike laughed, and this time he didn't even have to fake it. "This is going to be fun."

John's eyes nearly bugged out of his head cartoon-style when Candi-with-an-i walked through the door of the restaurant.

She was sporting a red leather miniskirt that could have revealed the knees on a Chihuahua, black fishnet stockings that begged a man to peel them off, and a ribbed black top that defied description, unless there was a line of clothing called "Cleavages 'R' Us."

John suddenly noticed that the restaurant had gone church quiet. He glanced around the room, and it was almost as if he were in a freeze frame. Waiters had stopped in midserve; patrons had halted in midchew. About half the men, including the maitre d', practically had their tongues hanging out. At least half of the women were glaring menacingly at their male tablemates.

It would have been comical if he weren't so irritated. Actually he couldn't quite pinpoint why he was irritated. Or with whom. And he instinctively knew he didn't' want to find out.

Candi smiled sweetly at the stunned maitre d' and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. The man appeared ready to faint. After a moment the host seemed to gather himself, and he waved vaguely in John's direction. Candi glanced at him, smiled, and winked, then sashayed toward his table, waggling her fingers at the men who sudden sat up straighter as she approached.

He had to give her credit; the blond wig actually looked real. And in was styled in a pretty way today. Not teased up, but more of a Meg Ryan-in-Sleepless in Seattle way. But John couldn't help but think that silky brown suited her better. It didn't scream "pay attention to me" like the blond look did. Her real color sort of whispered "natural beauty."

John shook his head. When was the last time—or the first time, for that matter—that he had analyzed a woman's appearance so much? Well, okay, he knew pretty and sexy when he met her but this was definitely weird, because he was more attracted to the other Candi. Well, Aubrie.

He was so busy worrying about his own mental health that he almost forgot to stand when she arrived at the table.

But he made it to his feet, successfully keeping the chair from falling backwards by grabbing the back of it at the last second. He plastered a smile on his face, swallowing all of the aggravation over her runway model entrance. "You look great. Thanks for coming."

She giggled. "Who turns down a free meal? That's a no-brainer."

Which was a good thing in Candi's case John thought, then remembered he was working with a fraud. "Good thinking." He held out her chair, and he could swear she wiggled her fanny before settling in.

Before he was even seated, a waiter—looking overly eager—materialized. "Good evening. My name is Cody—"

"Cody! What a cute name! Will you be servicing us tonight?"

The man blushed straight down to his white shirt collar. "Ummm, yes, I'll be waiting on you."

Candi's eyes sparkled with humor, but she quickly recovered and resurrected the blank bimbo look. "Super!"

John's irritation was escalating exponentially. He figured that it was because he was the only person who realized this woman was fake from the tip of her blond wig to her overinflated breasts to the heels of her red stilettos. Was he the only one who saw through her?

Apparently every other man in the room was wishing he could see through her skintight top. Cody, who seemed to have misplaced his tongue, pointed to each of their place settings with eyebrows raised in question. John made an educated guess that the man was asking if they'd like drinks. Even if that wasn't' what the waiter was going for, John needed a drink.

"I'll have a draft. Domestic."

The waiter didn't even hear him. He was staring straight at Candi's chest, his pen poised over his pad. "What can I bring you miss?"

Candi, the fraud, smiled at the waiter. "What's that drink named after the child star? You know the one with the curls?"

"Shirley Temple?" Cody suggested.

"Right!" She practically squealed. "Just add liquor to it."

The waiter might have seen the logistical stupidity in that if he weren't so interested in making her chest happy. "And you?" He asked John, much less enthusiastically.

This was going to be a long night. John had already ordered a draft, but since the guy obviously hadn't been paying attention, he swiftly changed his mind. "I'll have a Shirley Temple, too. But instead of ginger ale, substitute vodka, dump the cherry and add an olive."

"Your sister is a menace to society."

Mike worked hard at glancing up casually as he watched Nicole Miller storm into his office. He set down his pen carefully, forced thoughts of strangling her with a long loofah sponge out of his mind, and plastered a wide smile on his face. "Problems?"

"She's accusing us of stealing from her!"

Mike sat back. Nicole Miller was so beautiful, his breath usually caught. But she was the enemy and someone who would do anything to get ahead. "My sister doesn't make accusations lightly."

"She keeps it up and I'm filing a civil suit against her."

He barely stopped himself from snorting. "For what?"

She hesitated just long enough for Mike to observe that her mink-black hair was so shiny and thick, a man could get lost in it. Her eyes, even though gleaming with menace, were a sleepy blue. Her tailored suit was a pretty green. And she smelled fabulous, although that irritated him because he recognized the scent as one Apple Day had introduced two months after the one Rose Cosmetics launched, And they were very, very similar.

Finally she said. "Defamation of character?"

He sat back in his chair. "Can you defame a company's character?"

She waved. "Whatever. I'm sure my legal team will come up with something."

"How'd you get in here, anyway?" He asked.

She waved again. "That's not important."

"It is when my sister believes there are spies among us."

Nicole plopped hands on hips. "Michelle is delusional. You know that." She sighed and strolled farther into his office. "Mike, your sister might believe that Apple Day is doing something nefarious, but you and I have at least a marginal give and take. Can't you convince her that I am not stealing from Rose Cosmetics"?'

"I'd need a convincing argument. So far I don't have one."

"Give me an opening line."

"'Your sister is a menace to society' isn't my first choice."

"Can we talk?" She shrugged one shoulder, which Mike found incredibly sexy. "I can make my case."

An appealing idea came to him. He could have supper with a sexy woman and check up on Aubrie at the same time. "How about over dinner? Say, at Clyde's?"

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	8. Chapter 8

"Don't look now, but one of your big-kahuna bosses has just walked through the door."

It had better not be Mike, Aubrie thought. He might be her big brother, but she was old enough that she didn't need him checking on her. He'd been doing a little too much of that ever since their parents had died. If it's Mike, he's a dead man.

"Jennifer?" She asked about her direct supervisor.

"Think higher."

"Michael Cole?" She hoped it was Jennifer's boss. She really did.

"Go up a couple of notches."

Mike is a dead man. "Teddy Long?" She prayed it was one of the vice presidents.

"You're not aiming high enough."

"Not Michelle Mizanin?"

"Her twin brother."

A slow, painful death.

"And he's with Nicole Miller."

Aubrie almost blew a gasket. She remembered her bimboishness just in time. "Who's Nicole Miller?"

"The competition."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just brace up. They're coming this way."

Mike wasn't only dead; he was going to live through hell first. But Aubrie was happily surprised when her brother and his nemesis passed by them without a word or glance. But what in the world was he doing with Nicole Miller? He hated that woman.

Aubrie tried to keep her attention on her date, but her curiosity was working overtime. She watched Mike and Nicole get seated at a table two away from theirs, and then turned back to John. "Rumor has it that he's just a lackey for his sister."

John, who'd seen eyeing the two thoughtfully, abruptly turned back to her, "Rumor is wrong. He works his tail off for that company. His sister is damn lucky to have him."

Aubrie felt a little melting action going on in the vicinity of her chest. John Cena might be a snake, but he wasn't dim as a twenty-watt bulb, either, if he recognized how hard Mike worked. She'd better watch it, or she just might begin to like the handyman.

Their drinks arrived and the waiter just barely managed to deposit hers without diving into her cleavage. Aubrie was a little confounded. It was both flattering to be garnering so much attention for the first time in her life and yet irritating, too, because the attention was purely superficial. If she'd come as herself, the waiter would probably be yawning as he offered her the cocktail. But she just smiled brightly and worked to keep from kicking the man where it hurt.

"Are you ready to order?" the waiter asked her breasts.

"Her chest hasn't seen a menu yet." John said sounding a lot more irritated than he really had the right to be.

Aubrie tried to giggle but she had the feeling it came out more like a feral growl. She had an overwhelming urge to ask for a bib. "Yes, a menu, please."

"Oh right sure." Cody the waiter walked hastily away.

Aubrie glanced at John, who had thunder in his eyes. That made no sense, seeing as he probably asked her out for the same imbecilic reason the waiter was acting like an idiot. She smiled lamely and brought her cocktail to her lips in a strange attempt to put something between her flesh and his eyeballs. "So, what exactly do you do for Rose Cosmetics?"

He opened his mouth but right then Nicole Miller strolled by their table, clearly headed toward the ladies' room. Aubrie felt the need to "bump onto" Ms. Miller and find out what the heck she was doing with Aubrie's brother. She stood abruptly "Excuse me, I need to…umm, powder my nose."

Even if he was a clod, he had the manners to stand. "Sure thing, I'll be right here."

Where else would he be? She had to wonder. But she just shot him a dazzling smile and waggled her fingers at him. "I'll be back in a jiffy, sugar."

John watched Aubrie strut her stuff toward the women's bathroom. No matter how good the view was, his eyes narrowed. A chance meeting with the enemy? He didn't' think so. After Aubrie disappeared, he stood and strolled over to Mike Mizanin's table. "I think we have our traitor."

"What?"

"Did you see that woman who just hightailed it to the bathroom right behind Nicole? She works for you."

"Is she one of the names you gave Michelle?"

"Yes. And right now, she's rendezvousing with the enemy in the ladies' can."

"Maybe she's feeling loyal toward Rose Cosmetics and is hoping to get information out of Nicole."

"Right. She's worked for you for exactly two days."

"Well, you're a charming guy. I'm sure you could finagle some information out of her."

"Charming, I'm not. But I'll definitely find out what she's all about."

"Stop short of torture." Mike said. "We don't want a lawsuit."

John grinned. "Damn, there goes plan B."

Mike's eyebrows shot up. "What's plan A?"

"Seducing it out of her."

For some reason Mike's skin suddenly went a little pasty. "Start with plan B."

Nicole glanced in the restroom mirror as she attempted to fix the abomination that was her lips; she'd been chewing off her lipstick ever since deciding to have supper with Mike Mizanin.

Nothing fazed her. At least, nothing used to. She'd grown up in a household in which her parents insisted she demand the best of herself, and she could hold her own in any situation that confronted her.

But Mike and his sister, Michelle—particularly Michelle—were proving to be a really, really bad situation. Not because of the accusations Michelle was leveling at her and Apple Day. She could handle that, because she knew there was absolutely no truth to any of it. There was no way in hell she'd condone corporate espionage.

And she wasn't worried that Rose Cosmetics could harm her company and her livelihood. She had too much faith in herself, her employees, and her products to be worried. No, it was Michelle Mizanin herself who unnerved Nicole, and in a really strange way.

The woman was so aggravating, Nicole wanted to kick her. But that wasn't unusual. There were a lot of people Nicole would gladly kick. There were a lot of people Nicole had had to kick. Kicking Michelle would be a pleasure.

What had Nicole biting her lips was that she got strangely excited by her sparring matches with the woman. Nicole would meet Michelle scathing remark for scathing remark, and walk away stimulated. Even when Michelle managed to land the best parting shot, Nicole would find herself grinning. Too strange. And unnerving.

Worse, her pulse leaped whenever she found herself in the woman's company, although Michelle had to be the sorriest excuse for a female she could imagine. And one night in Las Vegas, after a day of meetings at a cosmetics CEO conventation, and a particularly heated debate at the bar with Michelle, Nicole wondered at her reaction to her nemesis. And her wine-induced fuzziness, she'd actually asked herself if she was bisexual. There just didn't seem to be any other explanation for her physical reaction to his mammoth woman who made it her life's goal to drive Nicole batty.

Of course, she'd scoffed at the thoughts the next morning once her mind had cleared. And she'd been desperately trying to scoff at it ever since. Nicole loved men. She'd never had a prurient thought about a woman in her life. So what was it with this deranged Amazon that affected her like this?

Her solace was that she found Michelle's brother, Mike much more attractive. Unfortunately for poor Michelle, she looked a little too much like her handsome brother. But Mike was kind and reasonable, while Michelle was infuriating and exciting. She was losing her mind.

Nicole sucked in, then puckered her lips until she was satisfied she'd evened out the lipstick, then capped the tube and dropped it into her clutch purse. In the mirror she watched a blonde breeze into the bathroom, and then lowered her gaze to keep from shaking her head. Nicole didn't understand women who painted themselves up like neon signs that read, Check me out, sugar. And if that wasn't a boob job, she'd give up her next paycheck.

The woman came straight to the mirror and began fluffing her hair. Nicole ignored her while she washed her hands. She was drying them with a paper towel when their eyes met in the mirror.

The woman smiled at her and then her jaw went slack for a second. "Hey, aren't you the lady who came in with Mike Mizanin?"

Oh, jeez. If Mike made time with women like this one, Nicole's estimation of him just dropped several rungs. She smiled back. "Yes. You know Mike?"

"Know him? Honey, I work for him."

Nicole had to keep from gaping. "You work for him?"

The woman waved airily and Nicole recognized the scent of Rose Cosmetics' Don't Forget Me perfume wafting toward her.

"Well, I don't work for Mr. Mizanin himself, but for his company. I just got the job."

Nicole turned from the towel dispenser. "Really? Are you enjoying it there?"

"So far, so good. Although today was a little stressful. I'm having a little trouble with the phone system. I cut off calls from two buyers. Oops! But they were real understanding about it."

The woman would be history within the next two weeks, Nicole estimated. "So you've met Mike?"

"Oh sure, he's real nice. He came by to welcome me personally."

For some reason, that irritated Nicole, even though she made it a point to greet all of her new employees personally as well. "Did Michelle stop by to welcome you, too?"

"You know Ms. Mizanin? Isn't she something?"

She's something all right. Something vile and witchy and exciting. "Yes, indeed, she sure is something."

"How do you know them?" The woman asked.

"We're in the same field."

"Field?" The woman repeated, screwing up her perfect skin.

"The same business." Nicole said slowly. "We're all in cosmetics and personal body products."

"Oh, how fun! But doesn't that make you com…comp…you know, people who are not on the same side?"

"Competitors?"

"That's the word!" the blonde said, pointing at Nicole's nose.

"Well, yes, but friendly competitors." And my aunt Fanny drank only during holidays.

The woman perused her closely and said. "You're very pretty. Do you wear only your company's products?"

Nicole stood still. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know. It's just that the lipstick you're wearing looks a lot like Rose Cosmetics' kiss me Red." The woman smiled and shrugged and turned to the door. Before opening it she looked over her shoulder. "You tell Mr. Mizanin that Candi say hi, okay?"

Nicole stood there for a moment, trying to catch her breath. It was Rose Cosmetics' lipstick. It was a guilty pleasure. She wondered if Mike had figured it out, too. Although she doubted it. Men had no eye for such things.

But as Nicole gathered herself and headed to the door, a thought occurred to her; the woman named Candi hadn't done a thing in the bathroom but talk.

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	9. Chapter 9

John watched Candi/Aubrie emerge from the bathroom, and something fell out of the bottom of his stomach when he noticed that her fake sauciness had disappeared. As much as he'd pegged her for a fraud, he already mourned the loss of her trying. He had to wonder what had happened in the bathroom that could possibly douse her spirit. He stood as she approached and frowned at her.

"What's wrong with you?"

She blinked and her eyeballs almost turned into kaleidoscopes. Conjuring up a smile he knew was as real as her bustling, she sat down and gulped at least half of her Shirley Temple. "Bad toilet paper." She said.

John sat back. As much as he mistrusted her, knew she was a fake, wanted to bust her for spying on his client, he felt a primal need to make her feel better. "Did something happen to you in the bathroom? You look…I don't know….sort of sad all of sudden."

He observed in fascination as she rallied. She whispered something to her lap he couldn't make out, then raised her head. The transformation back to Candi wasn't quite complete, but she was giving it the good old college try.

"I'm fine." She said, her smile not wobbling any longer, thank God. "I'm just hungry."

"Bad toilet paper does that to you every single time."

She laughed, and it was such a low, husky chuckle compared to her cutesy bimbo twitter that it hit him right below the belt. But he only smiled in response because, he didn't want to call attention to the fact that he'd noticed a different in the two laughs. With any back he'd get to hear the unconscious, sexy sound again.

She glanced at her menu for about thirty seconds, then closed it with a snap. Cody, the waiter, appeared instantly at her side. "Ready?"

She raised her eyebrows in question at John. He nodded. "You first."

"I'll have the trout amandine and the Caesar salad, please."

"Same for me." John said, although he'd originally planned to order the New York strip. But just in case she had an aversion to red meat, he didn't want to turn her off.

Which was a strange thought. What did he care? He sipped his martini and tried to regroup. He had to remember his ultimate goal. "So, what do you do for fun?" He asked when the waiter reluctantly took his leave.

"Me?"

He laughed. "I don't see anyone else here."

"Oh." She seemed to have to think about that. "Well, let's see. I like to…go shopping."

He almost laughed again. Apparently she had to come up with something typically bimboish. She actually had to work at it—which would be cute if she weren't a corporate spy.

The thought soured his stomach for some reason. He should be thrilled he was on a hot trail for his client. But suddenly he desperately for this ruse of hers. In his work for the FBI, he, along with his partner, Randy Orton, had tracked and nabbed plenty of white-collar criminals. He'd met and brought to justice some of the biggest scum in the United States. It was his forte. He never remembered regretting moving in for the kill before. That was, until a decision he'd made nearly got Randy and his now-wife, Leah, killed. That was when he decided to retire from the Bureau.

"What do you like to do?" Candi asked him.

He nearly missed the question, too lost in thought. Nab bad girls and guys, would probably not be an appropriate response. "Well, I like sports."

"Playing or watching?" She asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"Both." At least this much was true.

"Football?" She asked.

"My favorite." Again, no lie.

"Are you a Skins fan?"

He almost smiled. She was interested enough to forget to be dumb as a brick. "Of course. But I have a couple of favorite teams."

"Who else?"

"I grew up in Boston, so I have soft spot for the New England Patriots. How about you?" John grinned. "Do you like football?"

"Love it. I couldn't help it. My older brother played."

"Really? Where?"

She went still and it occurred to John that she'd just revealed more than she had wanted or expected to. She erected the bimbo façade again and waved. "Here and there."

Disappointment shot through John, but it also rejuvenated his resolve. His job—and allegiance—was with Michelle and Mike Mizanin.

Just then Cody showed up with their salads, and Candi dug in as if she hadn't eaten for a month. John let her enjoy her meal in silence. Plenty of time to grill her. He took a few perfunctory bites of his own salad and finished his drink. When the waiter returned to see if he'd like another, he shook his head. "Just more water, please."

When Candi pushed aside her salad, he conjured a smile. "How is it that a pretty woman like you hasn't been snatched up by now?" He asked.

She batted her lashes at him. "I haven't met anyone I'd like to be snatched by."

"Really? What type of guy do you go for?" he figured it was asking a little much to expect her to say, someone like you.

Which was a good thing, because she didn't. "Old and rich." She said then giggled.

If he didn't know she was trying to stay in character that might have pissed him off a little. But he just smiled. "With a heart condition?"

Her jaw dropped open. "Of course not. I wouldn't wish ill on anyone."

Even in disguise she couldn't stand to be construed as bloodthirsty. John thought that was adorable.

She took a sip of water. "How about you? What type of woman do you go for?"

"Someone just like you."

She laughed. "Of course you'd say that."

"No, I mean it. You're pretty and fun."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "You wouldn't want someone more….educated? More….sophisticated?"

"Brainiacs are boring." He said, keeping a completely straight face with an effort.

"Is that right?" She said, all giggle gone.

He nodded, pretending not to notice. "Education is highly overrated, I think. All those letters after someone's name just seems….pretentious, you know?"

"I hadn't thought about that."

Cody arrived with the trout, and Candi attacked it with a vengeance. John cut into his too, to give him something to do besides laugh. Just wait until tomorrow night, babe. He added. "And I'm not real big on dating women smarter than me."

"That definitely shrinks the available pool." She muttered.

"What?"

"This trout is delicious." She said.

"Yes, it is." He agreed with a grin. He could hardly wait.

Nicole glanced over her shoulder at the floozy blonde and her date. "You see the woman over there? The blonde?"

Mike looked over at Aubrie. "Yes."

"She says she works for Rose Cosmetics."

"Yes, she does. She just started this week."

"Oh."

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering. She's…..colorful."

Mike laughed. "If you only knew."

"Why would you hire someone like that?"

"Why wouldn't we?"

Nicole waved, realizing she sounded like something of a snob. "No reason, I guess."

"So tell me, Ms. Miller, why should we believe your company is squeaky-clean?"

She sat forward, for some reason almost desperate to make him—and his sister-believe her. "Because I'd never condone stealing a competitor's secrets."

"Maybe some of your chemists are doing it behind your back." She opened her mouth to retort, but he held up a hand. "You have to admit that your latest products have an eerie resemblance to those we'd previously introduced."

"But fundamentally they are not the same formula." She sighed and took a sip of wine. "Mike, I admit that I think Rose Cosmetics products are good."

His eyes dropped to her lips. "Yes, they are."

Nicole wasn't a blusher, but she felt her cheeks heating up. So he'd noticed. So what? She paid for the lipstick just like any other consumer. Nothing illegal about that. "The point is." She said, wishing she could hide her lips behind the cloth napkin in her lap. "Apple Day hasn't done anything illegal. I would swear to it."

He searched her face for she didn't know what. "I want to believe that, Nicole. I really do."

"But you can't, because your sister doesn't believe it."

"Believe it or not, I'm capable of making up my own mind."

Now she'd insulted him. He was probably a little touchy about working for his sister. Many men might be threatened by that. Although she'd never seen signs of it in him before now. He actually seemed to care for the witch. She was his sister, so Nicole supposed he sort of had to. Although she was a little confused by blind loyalty. She felt absolutely no affection for her brother, which probably said more about her than she cared to analyze. It was just that she didn't understand the guy. He seemed so aimless, still living at home with their mother at the age of thirty-two. He'd dabbled in dozens of different jobs, but never seemed to be able to stay at any one for a substantial length of time, citing boredom.

And Nicole knew damn well that the money she sent home to her mother every month probably found its way into his pocket. She was so deep in thought, she couldn't remember the last thing Mike said or if she'd responded. She racked her brain, then suddenly remembered. She'd insulted him.

She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I know you don't blindly follow Michelle. In fact, rumor has it that you pretty much run the show."

He stared down at her hand, so Nicole snatched it away. His skin had felt so warm and comforting, and although there wasn't a chance in hell that Mike and she would ever be anything but business rivals, she was heartened to know that a man had reached her on primal level.

Michelle Mizanin be damned.

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	10. Chapter 10

Thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted and favorited this story. You guys are awesome.

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or the wrestlers in this story. I own only my ocs. This story is fiction and is to be taken that way. No Copyright infringement Intended.

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><p>John arrived home at a little after ten. Jamie was still up, sitting in her favorite reading chair, her fingers flying over the pages. Jamie could probably read faster with her fingers than most sighted people could read with their eyes. It never ceased to amaze him.<p>

Her fingers went still and she marked her place. "You're home early." She said. "In fact, this might be a record."

He himself wasn't all that happy about it. He hadn't expected Candi/Aubrie to want to end the date almost immediately after the meal. He'd offered to take her dancing or for a nightcap somewhere but she'd begged off, claiming. "I need my beauty sleep."

He'd been hoping to get a little more information out of her then he had, to pin her down a little but after her initial obvious irritation over his comments about smart women, she'd slipped back into her bimbo routine and stayed there.

"Yeah, well, she'd an early-to-bedder, I guess." He told Jamie.

She snorted her laughter. "And apparently not with you, huh, hotshot?"

He frowned. "You know I almost never sleep with a woman on the first date."

"Especially if she's not interested."

He didn't mention that part of him wanted to believe that Candi/Aubrie was too afraid to be caught with that contraption on her chest, to sleep with him even if she wanted to. But she sure didn't show any signs of wanting to. Even when he went to kiss her good night in the parking lot, she'd turned her head so his lips hit her cheek. Now that was a first. He'd never had a woman not even want to kiss him. And it wasn't good for his ego.

He'd actually had a good time with her, despite knowing she was a fake. It had been amusing to watch her try to keep up the bimbo performance, even though he knew for a fact that the woman had brains to spare.

And she obviously wasn't used to playing the role of airhead, because she was so bad at it. She'd used just about every cliché in the book when she felt the situation called for it. She was almost a parody and consequently really fun to watch.

He could hardly wait until his date tomorrow night. He planned on pushing her buttons hard and watching her honest reactions.

"So was this one a single-digit IQ or did she manage to make it into the double digits?"

John would bet that Aubrie had a high IQ. "This one was double digits." He said.

"A step up! Miracles do come true."

"Hey!" John made no bones about the type of women he dated these days, and Jamie made no bones that she hated it, but she usually just pursed her lips and kept quiet, because she was well aware of his burning need not to get his heart broken all over again.

It was probably cowardly of him, but everybody coped with their demons in their own way and for now, this was where his comfort zone stood. Still he was feeling a little insulted. "My date tomorrow night is a genius."

Jamie put aside her book. "Oh really?"

"That's right."

"And exactly where did you meet this genius?"

"At my current job."

"Rose Cosmetics?"

"Yes."

"Michelle Mizanin?" She asked and for some reason her lips twitched.

John had to keep from shuddering. "Umm, no someone else."

"I don't understand why you don't ask Michelle out. She seems nice enough. And she'd obviously successful if she can afford you."

"That's just it." He said, jumping on the opening. "I don't date my clients."

"But you're taking out one of the employees."

"But the employee isn't cutting my checks." He shot back, wondering what it was with Jamie that she was pushing Michelle on him. He trusted Jamie's instincts and understood why she'd taken to Michelle, because she really was a nice lady. But….he shuddered again.

Jamie stood and stretched, yawning widely. "Well, maybe after you finish the assignment you can ask her out."

John opened his mouth but she said. "Time for bed." saving him from a further excuse. And she walked unerringly to the hall and down it toward her bedroom.

Michelle Mizanin, Ha! He was sure someone; somewhere would find her type attractive. And he liked Michelle so he hoped she'd find that somebody someday.

At the door to her room, Jamie turned back. "Oh, by the way, Randy called tonight. I left his message on the kitchen counter."

John grinned. Randy, besides having been his partner at the Bureau for many years, was also John's best friend. Now there was a guy who'd lucked out in the female department. His wife, Leah, was gorgeous and sweet and smart. And she tolerated John, even though he'd nearly gotten her and Randy killed a couple of years ago.

He still felt a boatload of guilt over that, even though Randy and Leah had shrugged it off immediately. "But we didn't' get killed, John." Leah kept telling him when he'd announced his decision to leave the Bureau.

A few years before, Randy and John were working a case of fraud. Randy had been taking a minivacation at a dog spa owned by Leah. John had made the mistake of believing it would be the perfect hideout for their star witness. Unfortunately, he hadn't realized that he and the witness were being tailed by thugs, and they followed him directly to the spa.

Then the thugs made the mistake of thinking Leah was the witness and tried to blow both her and Randy away. Randy and Leah had to go on the run but because Randy and John's boss was working for the other side, the thugs were right behind them. John still shuddered to think what might have happened, all because of him. He'd have never forgiven himself. In fact, he pretty much still hadn't forgiven himself. Although John didn't get to see Randy and Leah as much as he'd like, he still considered them his best friends in the world, save his sister.

In the kitchen he glanced at the number Jamie'd written down, and recognized immediately as the one for their house in southern Virginia, a huge, rambling country home with enough acres to handle their myriad dogs and close enough to the pet spa that Leah owned. Randy still worked for the FBI, now in the homicide division, so John guessed he was on vacation, helping Leah set up for the summer season.

John dialed the number and Leah answered. "Hello, beautiful." He said. "What's the idiot want now?"

She laughed. "Hi, I'll let him tell you. One second he's out tormenting Muffin."

John grinned. Muffin was Randy's butt-ugly English bulldog, but probably one of the most intelligent creatures John had never dealt with. Muffin had an eerie way of knowing exactly what people were talking about. It was Muffin who had brought Randy and Leah together in the first place, so they both obviously worshipped him.

A few moments later Randy picked up the phone, sounding a little winded. "I'm going to kill that mutt one of these days." Randy muttered.

"Yeah, right. What's up?"

"We're pregnant."

John went still. Then he burst out laughing. He knew they had been trying for this for almost a year. "You dog! Congratulations."

The pride in Randy's voice was obvious. "Thanks. We're due in November."

"Sex?"

"Lots of it. Great work if you can get it."

John grinned, even if he did feel a twinge of envy. "Boy or girl, idiot."

"We don't know yet. We find out next week."

"Any preference?"

"Leah wants a boy; I want a girl."

"Do you two ever agree on anything?" John asked still smiling.

"Sex. Lots of it."

John laughed. "Too much information, buddy. Give Leah a huge hug for me."

"One other thing." Randy said his voice lowering. "I'm retiring."

That shocked John down to his toes. Randy was one of the best agents in the Bureau, and he loved his job. "Why?"

"I've got a growing family to think about now. I don't want to be gallivanting all over the country and miss watching my kids grow up. It's time."

"What will you do?" Leah was obscenely wealthy in her own right, but John knew Randy well enough to realize he would never be happy with a life of leisure.

"I'm not sure yet."

A thought occurred to John. "Go into partnership with me."

"Excuse me?"

"Become my partner. Business is booming. I could use the help."

"I appreciate that, buddy, I really do. But we want to stay down here full-time."

"Fine. We'll open a branch office in Richmond."

There was a pause. "I don't need handouts."

"This is no handout, idiot. I really could use the help and I've been thinking about opening satellite offices for a while now." That was absolutely true. He hadn't been thinking of Richmond but then, he never thought he'd get Randy, either. He really missed working with the man.

"Let me talk it over with Leah." Randy said. "I'll call you soon."

"Good. And if you're even remotely thinking about it, come up to DC for a few days. I know you've been to my office but I'd like you to see some of my handiwork."

"Show-off."

"That's me."

"Okay. I'll get back to you real soon."

"And Randy, I mean it. I would love to work together again. And I do need the help. I would have asked long ago except I thought they'd have to throw you out of there."

"You're not too bad for a conceited jerk. Thank you."

"Thank you for even considering it. I'm really excited. I'll be totally pissed if you turn me down to flip burgers somewhere."

Randy laughed. "There's a thought."

John smiled. "Congrats again, buddy."

They hung up and John went to the fridge and pulled out a cold one. Slugging it down straight out of the bottle, he sat down and thought through the logistics. This could really work. And the thought of partnering with Randy again was fabulous.

He didn't know how long he sat, lost in thought, but just as he dumped the bottle into the recycle bin, his phone rang. He lunged for it quickly so as not to wake Jamie. "Yeah?"

"He'll be there the day after the doctor's visit." Leah said.

"I'm glad one of you has more sense than a worm."

"One of us has to. Thank you, John."

"My pleasure. And congrats again, lady."

"Thank you. We're pretty happy."

They said their good-byes and John hung up, a goofy grin on his face. Randy, a father. Randy, his partner. Life was good.

If only he could find a woman as special as Leah, he might even consider taking the plunge himself someday. And for some reason, as he headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth, a split-screen image of two gorgeous women—one a floozy blonde, the other a demure yet sexy brunette—flashed before his eyes.

His smile disappeared. "Don't even think about it, buddy."

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	11. Chapter 11

The next morning Aubrie sat glumly in the kitchen, sipping coffee, when Mike entered. He was in an irritatingly good mood.

"Morning, sis."

"Yes it is, barely."

"What?"

"Morning. At least for another"—she checked her watch—"six minutes."

He shrugged cheerfully. "So sue me. I was out late."

"I'll say. Three fifteen, to be exact."

He poured himself a cup of coffee, then turned to her and leaned against the counter. His hair was still wet from the shower. "Since when do you keep tabs on me?"

"I wasn't keeping tabs. I just couldn't sleep."

"Bad date?"

"Horrendous."

"Why? I always thought Cena was a pretty decent guy."

"I thought you barely knew him."

The coffee mug stopped halfway to his lips. He flushed a little. "Well, it's just that…when you told me you had a date with him, I had to check him out."

"You checked him out."

"Hey, you're my little sister."

"Who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself?"

"Give me a break. You haven't been out on a date in God knows how long. And when you finally go on one, you look like…like…"

Aubrie's eyes narrowed. "Like what?" She asked ominously.

"Well, just not yourself." He waved. "So what was so bad about it? Did he try to get fresh? Because if he did—"

"No, not at all." She rushed to assure him. "In fact, he was almost too much of a gentleman."

"Excuse me?"

Aubrie shook her head. "It wasn't like I wanted him to get fresh exactly. But he could have at least acted like he was thinking about it." She rested her chin in her palm. "Even as a blond bombshell I can't spark any interest in a man."

"Oh come on. I watched the other men in the restaurant. They were practically drooling."

"Old lechers and young boys. I mean a man like…"

"Cena?"

"Well, like him, not necessarily him."

"I'm not a huge expert, but he appears to be a fairly good-looking guy."

Oh wasn't that the truth. The man was simply mouthwatering. She sipped some more coffee, trying to figure out what was really bothering her and how to explain it so Mike would understand. "There's just something not quite right about him."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't think he's what he appears to be."

"Excuse me?"

"Sometimes he acts dumb as dirt. But if you look in his eyes, there's intelligence there. It's like he's putting on an act."

Mike practically washed the floor with the coffee that came shooting out of his mouth. He grabbed a paper towel and wiped his mouth, then the floor. When he looked back up at her, his eyes were watering, but he was laughing. "Honey, do you hear yourself? Who were you last night?"

She had to concede that Mike had a point, but she was just grumpy enough to argue with him. "That's just an experiment." She said her voice defensive.

"And yet you're willing to judge someone else who might be experimenting just like you?"

"Why would he be experimenting? I can almost guarantee the man isn't going for his PhD in sociology."

"That isn't what this is all about, and you know it."

"I do?" She scowled at him. "Okay, so this is going a little far afield of scientific analysis. But that's how it started."

"And now you aren't liking the results."

No, she wasn't liking the results. But for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. "I think I'm going to cancel my date with him tonight."

"Why? Don't you want to see how he treats the real you?"\

She pointed a finger at Mike's nose. "You know what he told me last night?"

"What?"

"That he found brainiac boring."

Mike laughed. "He was probably trying to make dumb Candi feel better."

"Maybe. Or maybe he does dislike intelligent women."

"Why would he ask Aubrie out if he did?"

She blushed. "Actually, I asked him out."

Mike blinked. "You've never asked a man out in your life."

"Experiment." They said in unison.

"I think you should go out with him. You might be surprised."

Unfortunately, she really did want to go with the idiot. And if she was honest with herself, the experiment took a backseat to just spending time with him. He might be infuriating at moments, but in a stimulating way. The night hadn't been horrible because of him. Not really. It was more a function of her expectations. She'd expected him to flirt shamelessly and to try to put the moves on her. She wasn't about to allow that to happen, not with the Pump You Up pumping her up, but he could have at least tried.

"I don't know." She said.

Mike came and sat at the table, and once again Aubrie was amazed at how handsome her brother was. He was such a catch. She couldn't believe that no one had claimed him before now. And a bit of guilt seeped in, because she knew part of it was that he hadn't wanted to abandon her and Gramps.

"Aubrie." Mike said softly. "What's one night? It's not like you have anything more pressing to do. And if he was a perfect gentleman to a woman who all but had advertising on her chest, you can bet he's going to be on his best behavior for Aubrie, the lady."

That was what she was afraid of. But enough of that, she didn't want to examine her emotions and behavior too thoroughly.

"So." She said. "Let's talk about you."

He looked down into his mug. "Let's not."

"Oh, but I insist."

He frowned. "What about me?"

"How was your date?"

"It wasn't really a date. Just a sort of business meeting."

"Right."

"It was! Don't forget, she's the enemy." He took a breath and exhaled slowly. "I think."

"Oh boy. She's gotten to you."

He shook his head. "I don't know. She seemed so sincere."

Aubrie thought back to the encounter in the restroom. "She's certainly beautiful."

"Is she?"

Aubrie laughed. "Last I checked, your eyesight was pretty good."

"Yeah, I guess she is."

"That wouldn't be coloring your thinking, would it?"

He sat up straight, indignation written all over his face... "You know me better than that."

She sat silent for a moment. "You want to hear something?"

"What?"

"I tried to get a pulse on her in the bathroom last night."

"And?"

"It was almost the worst part of the evening."

"Why?"

"Because she's so tall and elegant and beautiful. Not to mention successful. And there I was having to pretend I'm this idiot."

"She'll meet the real you someday."

Aubrie thought that comment was intriguing, because she couldn't see any reason why she and Nicole Miller would ever have a reason to make each other's acquaintance, unless…

"Did she say anything worth hearing?" Mike added.

"She pretty much despises you." At his pained expression she added. "I mean Michelle. She doesn't like Michelle."

"News flash, dear sister: I'm Michelle."

"You are also Mike. And if she kept you out until the middle of the night, I'd say she likes Mike okay."

"Or she's just trying to sucker me."

"Only one way to find out."

"What's that?"

"Keep seeing her."

"Ha! The only reason she wanted to go out last night was to convince me that Apple Day is innocent."

Aubrie thought back to her encounter with Nicole Miller. Not that Aubrie was a perfect judge of character, but the woman hadn't seemed like the scheming type. Her eyes weren't shifty, and she didn't appear to have a coy bone in her body. She was too self-assured without being a snob about it. And this was the most interest Mike had shown in a woman that she could remember. She hated missed opportunities. And Mike needed a life.

"I'll tell you what." She said. "I'll keep my date with Cena if you asked Nicole Miller out again. At worst you'll be keeping the enemy in close sight. At best you'll find out she's not stealing a thing."

Mike hesitated. "Okay, it's a deal." In a gesture they'd had ever since they were kids, they hooked and snapped pinkies. Aubrie smiled. Mike smiled. And if her smile was any reflection of his, they both were happy with the agreement. Which was scary and a little exciting all at once.

Just then Gramps strolled in from his usual morning walk. He looked at both of them, then crossed his arms. "This is the same expression you two wore when you were kids, and you were up to no good."

Mike and Aubrie donned their most innocent expressions.

"Didn't work then, isn't working now." Gramps said. "What kind of trouble are you two planning? And am I going to have to start raising bail?"

"He's been watching Court TV again." Mike said.

"We're not up to anything, Gramps." Aubrie said. "Have some coffee."

"Dr. Phil say—"

Mike and Aubrie both jumped to their feet.

"Gotta go" Mike said.

"Late for my run." Aubrie said.

"You think I won't get to the bottom of this, you're wrong. Communication is key."

"Mmmm—hmmmm." Aubrie said, sidling toward the doorway.

"Or you can stay and I'll make some blueberry pancakes."

Mike and Aubrie looked at each other. "That was low." Mike said.

"And effective." Aubrie griped.

They both sat back down. No one in his or her right mind would miss Gramps's blueberry pancakes.

Gramps grinned, then moved to the cupboard to pull out ingredients. "Okay, now let's take this from the top."

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	12. Chapter 12

John had realized, as he began getting ready for Aubrie to pick him up, that he had to let Jamie in on what was going on. Otherwise she might slip and say something that would give him away.

Jamie, the most honest person he'd known in his life had disapproved from the get-go. But she'd just pursed her lips and shook her head, muttering thing he felt better off not interpreting.

When the doorbell rang—exactly on time—he couldn't beat Jamie to the door. His sister was on a mission. As he finished dressing, in jeans and a Polo shirt, since Aubrie had told him casual was the name of the game, he heard his sister corral Aubrie into the living room and offer her a drink.

Although he couldn't make out Aubrie's exact words, he recognized the timbre of her voice. Instantly it reminded him of her husky laughter the previous night, and his blood began screaming through his veins.

Why did she have to be a fake? Was there any possible explanation that made sense? He really wanted to find out. And yet, he wasn't certain he wanted to know. He belted his jeans, did one more quick swish of mouthwash, then headed out. The sight that greeted him nearly laid him low. Aubrie was reading Braille.

Before she noticed his entrance, she looked at Jamie and laughed. "Does your brother know what you're reading?"

"Of course not. He's dumb as a stump." Her head turned toward him. "Hi, Stump."

Aubrie's head snapped toward the hallway, where he was lounging, deciding whether to kill Jamie in front of a witness or wait until later.

Aubrie was gorgeous—truly, purely gorgeous. As much as she looked like a bombshell in her bimbo persona, she looked like heaven as just plain Aubrie. And he was having trouble breathing. "You look great." He said when he finally found his voice.

She ducked her head. "Thank you."

"Exactly what is my sister reading?"

Aubrie hesitated, then said. "A treatise on the state of American culture." Jamie snorted.

"So it's not Moby Dick?" John asked dryly.

Aubrie and Jamie broke into peals of laughter. Finally Jamie caught her breath. "Well, a different version."

He had the feeling the joke was on him. He also had the feeling he didn't really want to know.

Aubrie stood and handed the book back to Jamie. "By the way, Sandra Hill's my favorite author, too. Wait till you get to chapter seven."

Jamie's grin spoke volumes. "This girl's a keeper."

John was a little irritated they were speaking a foreign language he didn't recognize. "If my sister's through entertaining you, are you ready to go?"

"Wait!" Jamie said. "Tell me what Aubrie's wearing."

Aubrie looked horrified. "What?"

"I want to see what you're wearing. John, describe her outfit."

"Umm, I don't want to make her uncomfortable."

"No, that's okay." Aubrie said, her expression shifting to one of amusement. "Go ahead."

Her eyes were shining too much for his comfort. But God, they were gorgeous. And Jamie was looking belligerent.

"Well, she's wearing a skirt."

"Color?"

"Kind of green? Prettier than olive—sort of dusky green, though."

"And her top?"

John was getting hot throughout his entire body. He'd been describing things for Jamie all of his life. It had almost become a game. But she'd never demanded he do it in front of a stranger. Especially about the stranger in question.

"I don't think Aubrie wants me to—"

"Sure, I do."

"Thanks a bunch." He looked her over, which wasn't a real hardship. "Okay, it's a short-sleeved cotton top with a sort of seascape collage of greens and grays and blues."

"What color is her hair?" Jamie, who might be dead by midnight, asked.

"A sort of brown."

"Mouse brown." Aubrie said with a rueful laugh.

"No, it's not." John said. "Its more of a chestnut color."

"Eyes?" Jamie asked.

"Blue."

Jamie was silent for a moment then turned to where Aubrie was sitting. "You sound pretty."

"Trust me, I'm not."

"Yes, she is." John said.

"Okay." Jamie said. "You have my permission to go out with him tonight."

"Jami—"

"But don't try to take advantage of him. He's an easy mark."

Aubrie laughed. "I'll be very gentle."

"Don't go that far. But be home before Tuesday."

"I'm really sorry about that." John said as they headed out of the driveway.

"Sorry about what?"

"Jamie. She can be a little overbearing."

"She's adorable. And she loves you. What's wrong with that?"

"Well, if she made you uncomfortable…"

"No, she made you uncomfortable. I was fine." She laughed softly as she made a right turn. "Thanks for lying."

John's head snapped to his left. "You think I was lying?"

"Of course. But that's okay. It was really nice of you."

John took a few deep breaths before he spoke. "Aubrie let me tell you something. I've been describing things to Jamie for twenty years. I've never lied to her yet. Not about what I see, anyway. She has to trust that I'll tell the truth."

"I bet she figures out in a nanosecond when you're not telling the truth about your feelings."

She hit that one straight on the head. "How do you figure?"

"She's your sister. And she's so attuned to you. It makes sense."

John sat back, actually happy he wasn't behind the wheel because he was pretty floored. This ultrasensitive woman was the same one who'd tried to make him believe she was as shallow as a wading pond last night? "Jamie seemed to like you." He remarked.

"I liked her, too." She almost whispered.

"Where'd you learn Braille?"

"At an internship one summer between my sophomore and junior years of college."

"What was my sister reading?"

"If she isn't telling, neither am I."

"It was something racy, I take it."

"If you want to know, learn Braille."

They drove for a long way out of Fairfax in silence. John began wondering if Aubrie was taking him out to murder him when they cruised into a drive-in. Aubrie was taking him to a drive-in movie? Not to mention, the headliner was Psycho. He didn't know whether to be worried or not."

Once she paid and parked, she turned and smiled at him. "Best hot dogs ever. How would you like yours?"

John had had major plans for Aubrie tonight. None of them were working out. First, they were having a blast with the movie; second, she was feeding him junk food at a wonderfully alarming rate. He'd tried to pay for some of the food, but she wouldn't allow him to touch his wallet. She'd asked him out, she kept reminding him.

Third, she was beautiful in the amazing way. She ate a hot dog like no one he'd ever known. She savored every bite as though it might be the last she'd ever taste. And she had to have everything, from chili to sauerkraut to onions, piled on it. Kissing her would be like kissing East German dirt and he didn't care.

But the best part was that she truly got spooked by the movie, and kept moving closer to him. He hoped the equally spooky sequel was coming up next.

But he had to remember his goal, which was finding out what was behind all the disguise stuff. Was she spying on Rose Cosmetics? And if so, why? Was she Apple Day's latest recruit to infiltrate their competition? Was she supposed to steal company secrets?

John owned his client the truth. He had to ferret out Aubrie's real identity her real motive. And if she was guilty he'd have to turn her in to Michelle and the cops in a heartbeat. It was his job.

"Let me ask you something." He asked her during intermission.

"Go for it." She said.

"Why are you working as a company dweeb when you're so smart?"

She pulled away from his arm around her shoulder. "I don't consider myself to be a dweeb."

"Okay, wrong word."

"Not to mention, there are no small jobs, just small people. That company—any company—couldn't function without them."

He was a little taken aback by her ferocity, but also impressed, because he knew she meant every word. Which made everything about this situation even more puzzling.

"Where would the company be without you?" She asked. "Are you dispensable?"

"The company wouldn't go down without me." He said.

"But things wouldn't get done without you."

"Or someone else."

She nodded. "Okay, true. Why are you asking me this?"

He didn't know how to answer. But he tried anyway. "Because you're smart."

"Are you dumb?"

"I hope not."

"Is your work that much less important?"

"I like to think I earn my keep."

"There you go."

He not only couldn't argue that logic, he was dumbfounded she'd just turned the tables on him. So the only logical thing that came to mind in retaliation was to go for another hot dog. "I'm heading back for another dog. You?"

"No, thank you."

He was feeling very strange. And he wasn't quite sure how to handle it all. He began to head out, but she held on to his arm. "Please don't leave."  
>He could no more ignore her request than he could slit his own wrists. He was feeling very strange indeed. "I won't leave."<p>

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	13. Chapter 13

Aubrie didn't recognize herself. She'd shed her shoes and her feet were lounging on the dashboard. The rest of her was hanging on to John Cena for dear life. She'd always been a fan of scary movies, but she usually found herself hugging a stuffed animal. Right now she was hugging an animal but he wasn't stuffed. He was alive and warm and letting her cling to him.

"I'm not really a sissy." She whispered.

"Yes, you are."

She tried to pull away, indignant and a little mortified. "I'm not."

"Yes you are. Me too. So keeping holding on."

She was pretty sure he wasn't a sissy. And she was fairly certain that she was enjoying him a whole lot more than she did her stuffed bears. And she didn't care. It felt too good.

"I'm not a baby, either." She clarified.

"I am. So don't' let go."

Aubrie was more than a little afraid that this hadn't been a good idea. She'd tried to think of something funky to do that was not a normal date. She'd wanted something out of the ordinary that would prove to John Cena that she wasn't a boring brainiac. But now she had the feeling she was. Because asking him to a drive-in was probably the single most idiotic idea she'd ever had.

A hot woman would know how to pull it off. A risqué woman would take advantage of the situation. A mature woman would have taken him to the ballet or something. She was just plain Aubrie, and she was a sissy and a baby, and having shed her shoes on the floor didn't make her anything but shoeless.

She let him loose. She liked scary movies. She didn't need to cling to him or anyone else. But she sure wished she had her teddy bear.

"You don't have to let go."

"I've seen this movie at least a dozen times." She said, almost ready to cry. And she didn't even know why. Probably because she was such a sorry excuse for a date, and she didn't want to be. She hadn't cared last night, because it really wasn't her. Tonight it mattered.

"That's the beauty of it."

"The beauty of what?" She asked, having been too busy feeling sorry for herself to remember the conversation.

"You can't see it too many times."

She dropped her legs from the ask and sat up straighter. "I can't do this any longer."

"Do what?"

"Pretend to be something I'm not."

He was silent for so long, she could cut the air with a butter knife.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I was trying to be different. Exciting. Not so boring. And the truth is, I'm boring. And a sissy."

He turned to her. "Aubrie, I'm not bored. And if you're a sissy, you're the prettiest sissy I've ever met."

She gulped down a sob, because it mattered too much to her that he was telling her the truth. A week ago she wouldn't have cared. At least she thought she wouldn't have cared.

"You said you didn't like brainy women."

The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to shove them back in. He'd said that to her other half.

"When did I say that?" He asked.

"Candi told me this morning." She improvised.

"You know Candi?"

Aubrie took a deep breath. Then another. She'd never make a good spy. Or liar. And frankly, she was sick of trying. Maybe after tonight she'd come clean with him. "Of course I know Candi. She and I work the same job."

"You talk on weekends?"

"Why not?"

"You just don't seem like the buddy-buddy types."

"She…wanted to switch shifts with me this week."

"Oh. She told you about our…dinner?"

"Well, you can't blame women for exchanging notes when the same guy is going out with both of them." She had no idea whether that was actually true, since she'd never exchanged notes with anyone but that was her story and she was sticking to it.

He turned down the intercom all the way. "She and I didn't exactly hit it off, you know."

Aubrie didn't' know whether to be offended or not. "Why? I think she's nice."

"Very nice." He said, nodding. "But not my type, I don't think."

"Why not?" She was now officially offended.

"I'm not into…I don't know…loud, you know?"

"Candi isn't loud, just maybe a little flamboyant."

"Okay, I'm not so much into flamboyant."

Now Aubrie was just getting ticked on Candi's behalf. Which made no sense whatsoever. Even she didn't like Candi that much. But who was he to make judgments? Besides, wasn't he the same guy who didn't care for brainiacs?

"Just what exactly is your type?" She asked, a little too irked to care that Norman Bates was causing mayhem up on the big screen.

He was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure. I just know her when I see her."

"How many times have you seen her?"

"Very seldom."

Aubrie resisted the urge to ask if he was seeing anything close to "her" right now. "Have you ever been married?"

His head jerked around. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering if you've ever seen a 'her' you were willing to say 'I do' with."

"No." He said, but that one word held a wealth of emotion. "I never said 'I do'."

"Not even close?"

When he looked at her, his gaze was so dark it was almost scary. "Why are you asking me all of this?"

Aubrie kept herself from shrinking or running screaming from the car. "I was just interested. Forget I asked."

He swiped a hand over his face. "I'm sorry. Touchy subject."

"And none of my business. Let's just watch the movie." Right now Normal Bates looked less menacing.

Aubrie wondered what can of worms she'd just opened. The man was obviously a fake in many ways, but whatever feelings she'd just unleashed were so obviously real. And close. And hurtful.

As much as she wanted to hear what was behind all of that anguish, she didn't think it was in her best interests to keep probing that wound. But the truth was, she wanted to have him tell her what—or who—could possibly have hurt him that badly. Maybe that would give her some insight into why he was pretending to be something he wasn't. Or pretending not to be who he was.

She was truly confused by him. She was missing something important. And she didn't know what it was, which drove her batty. Here was this handsome man who could act like a moron in one sentence and sound almost profound in the next. Here was a man who'd professed to be attracted to airhead bimbos one day, then denied the attraction the next.

Who was he? What was his game? She didn't know, and she didn't know if she wanted to know. And she didn't know if not knowing would make her crazy. This was supposed to be an experiment. She had to keep that in mind. Just a delving into the real world after years in classrooms and libraries. A reality check.

Except, she realized, she'd entered the real world under false premises. She'd wanted to test whether appearances could be deceiving. And already she knew the answer was yes. And no. She needed some air and she needed room. "Let's go to the snack bar, okay?"

He didn't seem to hear her for a moment, and it wasn't because he was lost in the film.

"John?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can we take a walk to the snack bar?"

"You change your mind about having another hot dog?"

"No, I'm not hungry. I just want to stretch."

"Oh, then sure. Let's go for a walk."

John knew exactly one thing. He wanted to kiss Aubrie. As they strolled passed the snack bar and toward the deserted end of the drive-in, he felt a hunger in his gut that had nothing to do with food.

There was something so vulnerable about her. Maybe it was the way she tried to be tough. Well, not tough exactly. Just self-assured. She was smart in the most naïve way. The notion sounded strange even to himself. He'd met smart. He'd met not-so-smart. He'd met sophisticated. He'd met witchy. He'd met friendly. He'd met standoffish. And, unfortunately, he'd met and fallen in love with self-centered.

He'd never met an Aubrie before. So book-smart. So unworldly. She didn't even know how to be dumb well. And he wanted to kiss her.

His problem was ethics. He was lying to her. He wasn't' what he'd been portraying himself as. Then again, she had an agenda, too and he hadn't figured that out, either. He'd considered asking Randy to look into her background, but somehow he'd wanted to puzzle her out all by himself. Or get her to come clean all on her own. And he wanted to kiss her.

They came to the chain-link fence at the perimeter of the drive-in and stopped. The halogen light several yards away lighted her face. And her lips. She was gazing up at him, a worried look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Yes."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Aubrie."

"I know."

"Then what?"

"I want to kiss you."

"But?"

"I haven't been completely honest with you. It would be under false pretenses."

Finally she was going to spill her secrets. "Just tell me."

She hesitated for a second, then took a noisy breath. "I forget to bring breath mints."

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	14. Chapter 14

"I don't care about breath mints." John said, stepping closer to her.

"But I do."

"Be right back. Don't move."

He sprinted to the snack shop, bought peppermint gum, then ran back to Aubrie. He hadn't figured that leaving her alone for a few minutes would be a problem. He'd been wrong. His heart dropped straight to his stomach at the sight of three men forming a triangle around a clearly frightened Aubrie. He approached slowly, assessing the situation.

"Come on, baby, let's have some sugar." Said the man whose back was directly in front of him.

John's blood began pumping overtime. All of the old instincts kicked in, and he actually reached for the gun that had hugged his ribs for years. Of course, it wasn't there. He stopped about five yards away and said, "Security. Anything wrong here?"

Aubrie held up her hand as if she were answering an algebra question in class. The three thugs turned to him, and he was happy to see they weren't armed with anything but stupidity.

John pointed at her. "Yes, ma'am?"

She actually smiled. "I think these boys need to go out to recess, sir."

He glared at each man in turn. "You heard the lady. Time to take a break, boys."

The young thugs looked at each other, probably assessing their ability to go three on one. John brought his watch to his mouth. "I've got a three-one-nine on the west end. Bring in the backup."

The boys scattered like roaches when the lights came on. Once they were gone, John took a huge, gulping breath. He'd just left a defenseless woman alone in a badly lit parking lot. All for the sake of a kiss. He was an idiot.

He moved to her. "You okay?"

Her laughter shook a little. "I'm okay."

"They didn't hurt you?"

"No." She glanced down at his wrist. "That's some walkie-talkie you have there." She raised her head. "Does it do anything?"

"Tells time."

Aubrie bent over, laughing. "I thought so. Oh, you're such a weasel."

He pulled her up, ignoring the weasel comment. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine now. Thank you."

"But they scared you."

She straightened and opened her mouth, her demeanor full of feisty valor. But then she surprised him by throwing herself at him. "Yes I was scared."

John felt a weird twitching sensation in his stomach, part residual fear, part relief. In his years with the FBI he'd encountered many hairy situations. And he'd been scared. Anyone who professed not to be scared was a liar or a fool. But this wasn't exactly the same.

And having Aubrie leaning against him, holding him as if he were her savior, felt so right. Even if he'd done little more than scare away three cowards. He didn't have the willpower to push her away.

Her body, pressed into his, hit him in all the right places. Her arms wrapped around him and her hands pressed into his back. She didn't say anything, but her body said it all: She'd been more frightened than she cared to admit.

He tried to fight the fury, but he'd witnessed good people hurt too many times. How could humans do that to one another?

"John?" She mumbled against his chest.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You said that already. And you should be cursing me. I was the one stupid enough to leave you alone, all for the sake of getting to kiss you."

She nuzzled his chest before lifting her face to his. "But I don't have any breath mints."

He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the pack of gum. Unwrapping a piece, he said. "Chew fast." Then he stuck it in her mouth. She chomped like a chipmunk, actually groaning with pleasure.

"Spit it out." He commanded. She obliged.

He spit out the piece he'd stuck in his mouth at the snack bar, then looked at her. "Now, I'm kissing you."

"Okay."

"Okay? Really?"

"Would you like an engraved invitation?"

He smiled. "Okay, works for me." He gazed at her for one moment longer, than slowly lowered his lips to hers. Her response astonished him. She wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed her mouth into hers. But he pulled back and just stared at her for a heartbeat, then laid his lips over hers again, this time coaxing hers open so his tongue could invade her mouth.

She jerked back a little, which really made him stop short. He stepped away for a second, but didn't let go of her. "I'm sorry." He said, but wasn't certain what he was apologizing for.

"No, it's okay. I…just am out of practice."

"Let's go back to the car."

"Are we going to kiss more there?"

For the first time since high school he wanted to do a lot more than kiss in a car. But it was obvious she wasn't that schooled in car sex. In fact, it was obvious she wasn't schooled in much sex at all.

"Aubrie?"

"Yes?" She said, looking a little dazed and frazzled.

"Don't take offense at this."

"Okay."

"Are you….a virgin?"

She stared at him as if he were an alien. "A virgin? Am I that bad a kisser?"

"No! Not at all. You just seem…tentative."

"Well, I'm not. I went to college, you know."

What that had to do with the current discussion, he wasn't sure. But he nodded his head like he understood, because she seemed to think that explained everything. "I was just wondering."

"Well, I'm not." She looked at him. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

He didn't know. If she wasn't a virgin, she was pretty damn close. He sighed. "Let's go."

"I disappointed you, didn't I?"

"No, Aubrie. I just don't have a clue what to do with you."

"Why?"

"Because you're beautiful and sweet and a liar."

The date had gone downhill from there. Aubrie had stomped back to the car and refused to speak to him on the ride home. She dropped him off with a terse. "Out." John hadn't meant to hurt her or accuse her of being a liar. He was just so confused.

Worse, when he talked to Jamie about it, she walked out on him. So he sat in the living room, nursing a beer and wondering why he was even on this planet.

Life in the FBI had given him a mission. It wasn't that he didn't feel he was doing good now. It was more that he didn't know what good he was doing. And that was the conundrum. He wanted to make a difference. He'd always wanted to make a difference. But it felt like every time he tried, he screwed up.

Take Aubrie, for instance. He'd been hoping to dig into her secrets. Instead he'd been so focused on her lips that he'd completely forgotten the original plan. IT was a good thing he'd left the FBI. He might have been an average agent, but had he made a difference? Other than putting some thugs behind bars, what contribution had he really made to society?

And was he making a difference now? He helped people keep criminals away, but that just sent them elsewhere. And if Aubrie was a criminal—a bad one at that—how much good would it do to put her behind bars? In the big picture it seemed like a small matter indeed. Not that he was proving to be very adept at figuring out her secrets anyway. He almost didn't want to know if she was involved in something underhanded. He liked her too much, was too attracted to her.

He was so confused. And frustrated. And neither Aubrie nor Jamie was speaking to him. He was heading for bed when the phone rang. His instincts kicked in. At this time of night, it was an emergency.

"Yeah?"

"John?"

Aubrie. His heart almost stopped. "Yes?"

"I forgive you."

"What?"

"Just listen. Okay, so I'm not all that experienced. I'm sorry for being so mad that you could tell."

She thought he'd called her a liar over her previous sex life. He could live with that.

"No need to be sorry. I shouldn't have said it."

"Forgive me for being mad?"

"Of course. I'd be mad, too."

"Here's the deal. I sort of was lying. But I want to fix it."

"Okay, how?"

"Want to have meaningless sex?"

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	15. Chapter 15

"No." John nearly barked into the phone.

Aubrie leaned back against the wall, fully prepared to die of embarrassment. What had possessed her to issue such a bold invitation? It was clearly a fatal error. But on the drive home she'd been replaying the night's events over and over again in her mind. She'd convinced herself that John was actually attracted to her, that he'd actually wanted to make love to her. And she'd decided to take the plunge. Big mistake.

She regrouped, striving for a chirpy response. "Okay, then. Have a nice night."

"Wait!" he practically shouted. "What I mean is, I'd rather have meaningful sex."

Aubrie hated to tell him, but she didn't know the difference. She wasn't a virgin, as he thought. But she also wasn't schooled in the intricacies of making love. She knew that she enjoyed the physical act. Even her first time hadn't been painful, as many of the girls in college had confided was the case for them. She didn't doubt their claims. It just hadn't been true for her.

So she understood the pleasure of sex. She just didn't quite get the meaningful part of it. She assumed John meant he wanted to care about the woman he was with. Which would be noble except his rejection meant he didn't give a damn about her.

"Aubrie?"

"I think I have to go now."

"No, wait. Please."

"Why? The conversation seems to be over."

"I'm saying yes."

"You just said no. And I feel like a fool."

"I didn't say no to you. I'm saying no to meaningless. And I definitely don't think you're a fool."

"I don't get it."

"Of course you don't."

Aubrie couldn't decide whether to be insulted or not. She preferred insulted to insulate her heart. She preferred not-insulted just to get a glimpse of him naked. Gramps would kill her. Or send her to Dr. Phil.

"Look, it was a dumb idea. I probably had too much to drink."

"You drank iced tea all night."

"Very intoxicating iced tea."

"Right. Maybe it fermented."

She laughed. "Seriously, John. I'm sorry for even putting you in this situation. It's completely my fault. I don't know what I was thinking. And I'm really embarrassed. So I'm going now, please."

"Where would you like to go?"

"Excuse me?"

"Can I come to your place?"

"Absolutely not. My brother and grandfather would kill me."

"We can't meet at mine unless you want Jamie listening in."

"John, I was temporarily insane. It was a horrible idea. Please forget this phone call ever took place."

"I don't want to forget it."

She sucked in a breath. "Please do."

"I didn't handle this well." He said. "What I'm saying, Aubrie is that I'd love nothing more than to make love with you. But I'm not just a body, and neither are you."

Aubrie had to shake her head. Something was off here. Weren't men programmed to enjoy sex for sex's sake? It was usually the women who read more into it. So here she was offering him what men dreamed of—a no-strings-attached one-night stand—and he was rejecting it. Rejecting her, more likely.

"Listen, I really shouldn't have called." She said, needing to hang up before she broke down in tears. "I have…stuff to do."

"Go out with me again." He said.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I think it's an excellent idea. I really enjoyed tonight."

She wanted to believe him. She desperately wanted to believe him. Which probably qualified her as the most pathetic creature on earth. "Let me think about it, okay?"

"Fine. Call me when you decide."

"I will."

Aubrie stomped through the house, up the stairs to Mike's room. She knocked, and when she heard a muffled, "Go away." She walked in.

"I need to talk." She said.

"Uh-oh. That is never good."

She sat down on the edge of his bed and gave him a shake. "Stick with me here and start earning your wise-big-brother status."

He scrubbed his face with his hands, then sat up, fluffed the pillows against the headboard, and leaned back. "I take it the date didn't go well."

"It was a disaster."

He went still. "He didn't do anything wrong, did he?"

"Yes. He rejected me."

"Excuse me?"

"I offered to sleep with him and he said no."

Mike bit his lip, and Aubrie had the feeling he was trying to keep from laughing. "And this is bad why?"

"You think rejection is a good thing?"

"Aubrie, this was your first date with him."

"Technically my second. And I'm pretty sure he'd have slept with me last night if I'd given him the chance."

Mike sat silent for a moment. "Did it ever occur to you?" He said after a moment. "That the reason he turned down Aubrie is because he respects you more than Candi?"

"No, that hadn't occurred to me." She said. "What occurs to me is that he'd more attracted to the blond than plain old Aubrie."

Again, Mike paused before answering. "Well, then, that tells you something about him right? You should be glad to be done with it."

"You men don't understand a thing."

"Hey! I'm as enlightened as the next person. It's women who don't make sense."

"We're the only thing keeping this planet going, buddy. If it were up to men, you'd have killed each other off a long time ago and grasshoppers would rule the world."

"I'm not even going to question that logic."

"Good, because you'd lose." She shook his shoulder a little, just to make certain he was semi awake. "I'm mad."

"I wish I had an answer that would take your mind off of grasshoppers, but I don't. Are you saying you want me to do something about him?"

"Yes. Make him human."

"I mean, do you want me to fire him?"

Aubrie pulled back. "I would never ask you to do that to someone."

"I know you wouldn't."

"Then why would you even say that?"

"Because I want you to make sense."

Aubrie hated when Mike tried to pull psychological crap on her. She was well within her rights not to make sense. She'd just been cruelly rejected. Then again, she prided herself on being smart and logical. One little "no" shouldn't throw her into a mindless tizzy-no matter how much it hurt. "Okay, I'm sorry. I don't understand myself right now."

"Not a problem. Anything else I can't help you with?"

"Well, yes. Did you have fun with Nicole?"

"I can't help you with that, either."

"Why not?"

"Because I did and I don't like it."

"What's wrong with having fun with her?"

"I don't know any longer."

"She's beautiful. And she actually seems nice enough."

"She hates me."

"She hates Michelle. She likes you."

Mike ran his forearm over his eyes. "Have you noticed what a sorry pair we are? We're expending an awful lot of energy to hide our true identities. Are we that uncomfortable with our true selves?"

Aubrie sat back at that. The implications hadn't struck her until now. They were both pretending to be people they were not. What did that say about them? She considered Mike the coolest guy on the planet. And she absolutely understood why he'd had to take on a different persona to achieve his goals. But what was she playing at? "What am I doing?"

"Testing a theory?"

She shook her head. "No. That was a convenient excuse. And what I'm learning is not making me happy."

Mike frowned at her. "Turn your back."

"Why?"

"I'm putting on my robe and we're going to talk."

"I just need to think."

"You'll think better with more knowledge. Turn your back."

A minute later they both padded down to the kitchen, and Mike made two glasses of chocolate milk. He sat down at the table with her and Aubrie began to worry. He looked so serious.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Don't get mad, okay?"

"Get mad about what?"

"I thought it would be fun."

"What would be fun?"

"Drink your milk."

Okay, this was serious. When Mike demanded she drink her milk, he inevitable imparted bad news. She drank her milk because she knew he wouldn't say a word until he thought he'd drugged her with 2 percent and chocolate. "Okay, tell me."

"Cena thinks you're a spy."

"Excuse me?"

"He knows you and Candi are the same person. He thinks you're infiltrated the company as a spy."

Aubrie found it hard to breath. John had known about her dual identity? He'd dated both of her just to keep tabs on her? "Meaningful sex" took on a whole new definition. To him it probably meant getting her to confess in the middle of an orgasm.

"Who is he?" She asked. "He's not your handyman, is he?"

"He's an independent contractor."

"Whom you've contracted to do what?"

"Install a security system and try to track down a spy."

"And I'm his suspect?"

"Well, you're one of several he's following. But you have to admit you make a good one."

She folded her arms over her chest, feeling suddenly chilled. "Why do I make a good one?"

"He caught on the very first day you showed up, honey."

"Why didn't you tell him who I am?"

Mike glugged down his own milk. "I kind of wanted it to play out. I wouldn't have let him arrest you or anything."

"How kind of you." Aubrie stood up and began pacing back and forth across the kitchen. "So the man went out with me because he thought I was a felon."

"Here's the funny part."

"I can hardly wait."

"Don't get mad."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."

"I'm lucky I'm not dead, right?"

"The jury's out until I hear the funny part."

"He advised me to hire you. Both of you."

"You are so lucky I don't have a lethal weapon in my hands." She stopped in mid-pace. "Why did you do this?"

"Remember our bet?"

"You've lost that one, buckwheat."

He held up a finger. "Technically I didn't win, but I didn't lose either."

She wanted a bat. Or a boxing glove. Anything. "You figure this how?"

"Both of you were hired."

What was the term for killing a sibling? Offhand she couldn't remember. But she didn't think there was a jury in the country who'd convict her for murder. This had to be a case of justifiable homicide if ever there was one. "I'm still waiting to be bent over with laughter."

"Well, the funny part is that if you lost—which technically you kind of did—John was the man I planned on hooking up with. So, see, it sort of worked out."

What was the term for wiping out the entire male species? There had to be a name for it. She might even go down in history as the first women to give it a try. "You'd better go back to bed. And lock your door. Otherwise, I won't be held responsible for my actions."

Mike stood up and backed away slowly. "You know I love you, right?"

"I know you and John made a fool of me."

He stopped at the doorway. "Hold on. I did not ask him to ask you out. He came up with that all on his own. I just let him pursue a possible lead."

"What's the term for killing a security specialist?"

"Homicide?"

"There you go. Works for me."

"Aubrie, what are you going to do?"

"Make sure he has every reason to believe I'm the mole."

"That might distract him from finding the real culprit. I'm paying him a lot of money to figure out what's going on."

"Lock your door, Mike."

"On my way."

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	16. Chapter 16

Aubrie spent the rest of the night formulation a plan. Since she was fairly lousy at plotting revenge, she had to work at it. There were so many reasons to be angry and hurt that she wasn't certain how to wrap her mind around all that had happened. Her little experiment was her fault, so she couldn't blame anyone but herself.

She wanted to strangle her brother, but unfortunately she loved him. And she recognized why he'd made the choices he had. She could shoot John Cena straight through the heart, but not when it was apparent he'd gone above and beyond to try to ferret out a traitor. He should be working for the FBI or something. He'd be good at it.

Nope, it came down to her. She'd set this wheel in motion. She had no one to blame but herself. It just hurt that John had dated her solely as part of a job assignment. It would be so easy to hate him. She should hate him. And yet, she didn't quite know how to. Even if everything he'd said and done had been fake, some of it felt real.

For someone with a PhD in sociology, she sure didn't feel very smart. Should she trust her gut instinct and believe that he did really like her or should she cut her losses and face the truth: that he'd only pretended to like her to get her to drop her guard.

Ugh! Men were so exasperating. Who could figure out their motivations? Even her brother had bought into the scheme because he wanted her to date. It hadn't seemed to occur to him that when both parties were acting under false pretenses, the relationship might suffer a little.

At eight in the morning, while she was taking a shower, inspiration struck. As a retaliation maneuver it was the perfect foil to all of John's and Mike's machinations. It was time to teach the men just how much smarter women were—especially when they worked together.

She hopped out, wrapped her hair in a towel and dressed herself in her oversize terry robe. Then she padded downstairs and grabbed the phone book.

"How do you feel about teaching the opposite sex a lesson?"

Nicole sat up in bed and looked at the clock. Eight a.m. on a Sunday morning. And a lunatic was on the phone. "Excuse me?"

"Nicole, you don't know me. Well, you do, but not really."

"Should I be calling the cops?"

"My name is Aubrie Mizanin. I'm Mike and….ummm…Michelle's sister."

That jolted her awake more than a shot of caffeine. "Okay."

"We need to meet."

"And that would be why?"

"Because I like you and you can help."

"Help do what?"

"Kick a couple of men where it hurts."

Nicole sat up straighter. "You really are Mike's sister?"

"I really am. I can tell you what he did in kindergarten that got him expelled for three days."

"Was it perverted?"

"No, that didn't come until the teenage years."

"I'm listening."

"Remember that blond ditz you met in the bathroom the other night at Clyde's?"

Nicole had to sift through a foggy morning brain. "Yes, the one who works for Rose Cosmetics?"

"That was me in costume, sister. And I'm bent on revenge against all men in the universe."

"Who, for example?"

"My brother, Mike, for one."

"Okay, although I have to admit I like him more than anyone else in your family so far. What was with the blond-ditz routine?"

"Long story but trust me, Mike needs to be kicked in the butt."

"I'm not against this notion."

"Feel like having fun?"

"If it doesn't include jail time, I'm in."

"Men suck."

"Tell me about it." Nicole said, looking gorgeous, as always.

They were sitting at a Greek restaurant in Falls Church. It was a stormy day and Aubrie felt as though her hair and clothes had suffered inordinately as a result of the weather. Not so for Nicole, whose hair was neatly swept up in a bun and whose pants and blouse were perfectly pressed. Aubrie tried to leash in her envy, but it was too hard. "Do you mind if I'm honest enough to say I hate you?"

Nicole stared at her. "I promise you, I have never spied on your sister or her company."

Aubrie needed time to remember she was supposed to have a sister. She had to laugh. "I don't mean that. I mean you're just so beautiful and put-together."

"Thank you!" Nicole said with a smile that could sell a million posters. "That's really nice."

"I wasn't being nice. I was being catty."

"You do that very well."

Aubrie laughed. "Okay, so you hate my sister. But I promise you she's okay."

"In what universe?"

Aubrie waved. "There has to be one out there. But this isn't about her. This is revenge on men."

"Who messed with you?"

"A guy who thinks I'm spying for you."

"Excuse me?"

"It's kind of a long story."

"I've got time."

Aubrie explained about her quasi-experiment. The more she talked, the more Nicole smiled. Aubrie finally took a breath. "I don't know why I'm telling you this, except I don't think you're trying to steal company secrets from Rose Cosmetics."

"Believe me Aubrie. If I ever thought we had a corporate spy in our organization, he or she would be in jail. I'd hand the person over to the authorities myself."

And Aubrie was convinced of Nicole's sincerity. "It must be a female thing."

"Excuse me?"

"Females. We understand one another better. You're telling the truth."

Nicole chuckled, then sipped her water. "Somehow your sister must have missed out on those female genes."

Wasn't that the truth? If Aubrie didn't love Mike so much, she'd spill the bean on him, too. But just on the off chance that she'd totally misread Nicole, she didn't dare. In a couple of months they could all laugh about it. Right.

"Anyways, since John believes I'm a spy, I'm going to lead him on a little goose chase."

"That's devious."

"Does he or does he not deserve it?"

Nicole hesitated, then nodded. "Okay, I'm in. Do I get to neuter him first?"

"My job but you're welcome to my brother, Mike."

Nicole sat back. "I kind of like Mike. Why would I do that?"

"He let John believe I was a snitch for you."

Nicole didn't even hesitate, bless her. "Let's get them. What's the plan?"

John stared at the computer that monitored Aubrie's work area. Of course, right now she was in Candi in all her pumped-up-hair-and-chest glory. He had to admire her determination to pull this ruse off. But he also hated the getup. She was so much more attractive with her natural beauty.

And he couldn't believe he'd said no to her. Was he out of his friggin mind? He had the horrible feeling that Aubrie wasn't giving him a second chance anytime soon.

He was mulling over his stupidity when a strange man approached Aubrie's desk. How'd the guy get past security? He made a note to ream the front desk out. He turned up the sound.

The man leaned over Aubrie's desk and said. "Hiya, sugar."

"Well, hello, there, baby doll!" Aubrie said in that breathless voice that was beginning to irritate the hell of out of John.

"Are we still on tonight?" the man asked.

"You better believe it. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

John practically gaped. "Sugar" Candi was actually dating someone else? The man, who in John's opinion wasn't all that attractive, casually dropping an envelope on Aubrie's desk.

"Here's making sure you show up."

She made a big production of dropping the letter in her purse. "I'll be there, honey."

"You going to have good news for me?"

"The best."

Because he was monitoring a couple of other potential suspects, it was more than an hour before John could get away from the security office. But he was still hoping mad. And he wasn't quite sure why. Well, he was, but he was having a hard time with it. He was mad that Aubrie was dating someone else.

He couldn't care less about Candi-with-an-i, but Aubrie was under there somewhere and she was dating another guy. And the guy wasn't even that good-looking, either. A little too skinny, and John thought he walked like a girl. Nonetheless, he had a meeting with Mike Mizanin and he had to report all he knew so far.

Mike's secretary escorted him into the office, and after shaking the man's hand, John sat down and pulled out his notes. "A couple of things."

"Go ahead."

"Ryder is making copies of his notes."

"That's standard."

"But he takes them home with him."

"That's not standard, but maybe he's working overtime? He's one of our best chemists."

"I'm only relaying my observations. He looks awfully strange when he's making copies. It's just a gut feeling."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind. And you've already done a background check on him, right?"

"He seems to be clean, except he just bought a new car that is a little bit out of his price range."

Mike grimaced, but nodded. "All right. Keep an eye on him. What else?"

"Eve in accounting. She's been making some strange moves lately."

"She's been with me forever. I can't believe she'd do anything wrong. And she doesn't have ready access to files about formulas."

"But that's what she's been doing. Going through files."

Mike sat back for a moment. "There might be a reason she's doing that. I'll ask Michelle, but I think she has her looking into a few things."

"All right. Eve's probably okay. But I'm not ruling her out."

"I don't want you ruling anyone out. But I hate that anyone would be ruled in."

"I know." John understood too well the shock and disbelief of betrayal. The pain was remarkably intense.

"Anyone else?"

"Candi is dating somebody."

Mike actually laughed. "That would be you."

"No, she's dating someone else. And let me tell you, he looks pretty ugly."

"And this is suspicious why?'

"He handed her envelope."

"Oh, well, let's go arrest them now."

"It sounds strange, I know. Except he wasn't her type at all."

"And what would her type be?"

"She liked me. Well, the Aubrie part of her liked me. The Candi part of her couldn't get away fast enough."

"What does this have to do with our spy?"

'I think that envelope might have been a payoff."

"Then by all means, let's go ask her."

"We can't do that. She has no idea who I am. She thinks I'm a handyman."

"Then go get your tool belt. I'm sure there's something seriously wrong in her office."

John would protest, except he was really irritated Aubrie had a date. If she had a date. He almost hoped that the man was actually an accomplice in crime, and not a love interest. Which just went to show what an idiot John was. Randy would be laughing his butt off right about now.

By the time John found and confiscated a tool belt and he and Mike made it to Aubrie's desk, she was gone and an intern was manning her desk.

"Candi's gone." The intern asked. "But Aubrie should be here in about thirty minutes."

John hid his frustration as best he could. And why was he frustrated, he couldn't say. Well, he probably could but he didn't want to.

He didn't want Aubrie to be guilty. But he didn't want her Candi persona to be dating a dweeb, either. So he was torn between being attracted to a lying thief or being jealous of a guy who wanted his lying thief.

Yes, he was losing his mind.

The intercom sounded, with instructions for Mike to call the receptionist. Mike picked up the phone and dialed the three-digit code to the front desk. He said a few words, put down the phone, and grabbed John's arm, pulling him out into the hall.

"What?" John asked.

"There's a guy out front claiming to be FBI. Why would the FBI be here?"

John grinned. "Did the FBI guy give a name?"

"Oliver? Something like that."

"Orton?"

"That's right. Do you know him?"

"I do. And now I have a plan."

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	17. Chapter 17

Aubrie watched a man who could easily be a cover model approach her desk. He strode toward her with such authority, she was actually a little frightened.

"Can I help you?" she squeaked.

He whipped out a wallet-type thing and flipped it open. "Randy Orton, FBI."

She stared at his credentials and badge, then looked up at him. "Is there something wrong?"

"Do you know a man named Cena?"

"John?"

He flipped open a small writing pad. "Yes, he'd be the one."

Not as well as she wanted to, but….okay. "Yes, I know him. Why?"

"We suspect him of trafficking corporate secrets."

"You think John's a spy?"

"That's our contention, yes."

Aubrie stood up so abruptly her chair fell over. She didn't care. "Not a chance."

"Why is that, ma'am?"

"He's the one trying to—"she stopped herself just in time. She wasn't supposed to know his real role here.

"Trying to what, ma'am?"

Aubrie never prided herself on being quick on her feet. But she gave it try. "Clean the toilets. He cleans the toilets."

"And he's only trying to do that?"

She shrugged her shoulders and raised her hands. "Who can ever really get a toilet perfectly clean?"

He gave her a hard stare that would have her confessing to murder in seconds. But then he nodded and said, "I think that about does it."

And as she gaped at him, he turned on his heel and left."

She had to get to Mike. And she had to get to John. They were both idiots but they were her idiots, and no cocky, full-of-himself federal agent was messing with what was hers.

"She's not guilty of anything but being protective of you, pal." Randy said to John several minutes later in Mike's office.

John stood up. "You talked to her for all of thirty seconds."

"So?"

"You'd make a really lousy FBI guy."

Randy grinned and shrugged. "Probably. But she's only guilty of being a lousy liar. You clean toilets around here?"

"She thinks I'm a handyman."

For some strange reason, Mike had a coughing fit. John looked at him. "You okay?"

"Uh, sure." Mike said. "But I have to agree with Randy here. I don't think she has a spy bone in her body."

John glanced back and forth between the two of them, wondering exactly what he was missing. "You're both out of your minds. Watch a pro in action."

Randy shook his head. "I can't wait."

The moment John left the room, Mike stood up, grinning. "You're good."

Randy looked at him for a moment, then said, "What am I missing?"

"I don't know if I should tell you. You're his friend, after all."

"I am. But as long as you're not screwing him, tell me anyway."

"Aubrie isn't a spy. She's my sister. All she's doing is conducting an experiment."

"What kind of experiment?"

"She's working on her Ph.D."

"In what?"

"Sociology."

"Ohhh, sociology. She's one of those types."

"I'm afraid so."

Randy sat down and hooked his left ankle over his right thigh. "Why don't you just tell him?"

"Because he likes her, I think."

"Really? So allowing him to continue looking at her as a suspect is a good thing?"

"He keeps looking at her, doesn't he?"

"Depends. How does she feel about him?"

"She's mad as hell."

"And this is good because…."

"Because if she didn't like him, she wouldn't care."

Randy stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing. "Wait till Leah hears this." He leaned forward. "Do you really think there's potential here?"

"I'm counting on it."

"At the risk of John's being distracted away from the real culprit?"

"He's still being more than thorough, so I'm not too worried about that. Besides, I'm not so sure there is a real culprit any longer. I've…umm….had a talk with the woman who runs our competitor company, and she seems sincere not having a mole in this organization."

"Oh yeah, guilty competitors would come clean right away."

Mike loosened his tie a little. "Well, that's why I'm keeping John on the job, just in case."

"Right. And to match make with your sister."

"Merely a side benefit."

"Devious. I think I like you."

"Not to mention—and don't forget, this is purely an observation from an extremely happily married man—your sister is really pretty."

"Try telling her that."

John walked toward Aubrie's desk. She looked up and then stood rapidly. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here."

He stopped short. "You are?"

I don't want to alarm you, but there was an FBI guy in here asking about you."

He went for a shocked look. "Why would the Fibbies be asking about me?"

"That's what I want to know. But just be careful."

"Who was this?"

She waved. "Some guy. But he looked really scary."

John had to work hard not to laugh. "Thanks for the warning."

"What do you think they want? I had the feeling he thought you're…you know, a corporate spy or something."

"Me? A spy?"

"That's the impression I got."

"Do you think I'm a spy?"

"Of course not!"

Man, she was so beautiful, the little fraud. "Why not?" Think I'm too dumb?"

"Of course not."

John was unnaturally happy about her ferocity. She was cute when she was defending him, even if she claimed he cleaned toilets for a living. "So, would you go out to dinner with me tonight?"

"I'm sitting here telling you the Feds are after you and all you care about is feeding your fool stomach?"

"What are they going to pin on a handyman?"

"Who knows? But I'm telling you, they're asking."

He shrugged. "I'd rather worry about my fool stomach. Dinner tonight?"

"I…can't."

"Why not?" He wanted to hear her say it. Her Candi persona had a date.

But all she said was. "I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

She glared at him. "I'm trying to remember when my private life became your business."

Now he was getting annoyed. "When you called me the other night, that's when."

"That was a mistake."

He was about to open his mouth when it suddenly smacked him in the head that they were being monitored. "I'll talk to you after work."

"I don't know what there is to talk about."

"Plenty, Aubrie. Plenty."

"Why don't you just go talk to Candi?"

That stopped him short. He leaned over her desk and whispered—for her ears only, he hoped—"Because I don't want Candi. I want you."

Aubrie had a couple of long hours to contemplate John's words. Fortunately, she had a lot of Candi's mistakes to fix, so she wasn't' just twiddling her thumbs. She also wasted some energy being mad at her brother because he wasn't returning her calls. And she desperately wanted to warn him about the FBI guy.

It was really strange how protective she'd felt when the man came in and began asking about John. She didn't think for a moment that John was guilty of anything. Well, except for lying to her about knowing she was also Candi. And lying to her about his actual role at Rose Cosmetics. And refusing to have sex with her.

Now that she thought about it, the man was a scum ball. Nonetheless, she didn't want to see anything bad happen to him. Then again, the man was scum ball.

She had no doubt he'd witnessed Nicole coming in, dressed as a man, making a date with her. She was acutely aware that she was being watched intently. But it still bugged her that even though John still believed she was a potential spy, she still kind of wanted him. Well, more than kind of. More like a whole lot. If he didn't' consider her a spy, it would be more than a whole lot.

Her phone rang, and she stopped refilling papers, hoping Mike was finally available.

"It's me." Nicole said, her voice low, as if she were afraid of a tap.

"Hi. What a day."

"Did you-know-who take the bait?"

Aubrie glanced around, wondering just where the camera and/or microphone was hidden. "That would be my best guess."

"Can't talk, hmmm?"

"Right. Let me go take a walk to refresh my soul. Where can I reach you?"

"Call my cell phone." Nicole gave her the number.

"Gotcha. Talk to you soon."

When John returned to Mike's office, Randy and Mike were laughing like they were old buds. This made John very nervous. Randy wasn't an easy man to get to know, and here he'd left him for all of ten minutes.

Something was up. "What's up?"

"Not a thing." Randy said. Which was a really bad sign.

John turned raised brows to Mike, who was suddenly studying his calendar intently. "Your turn. What's up?"

"Randy was just me about…umm—"

"Muffin." Randy said, just a little too quickly.

"Right." Mike said. "Muffin."

But his expression said he didn't know if Randy was talking bran or blueberry.

"Oh, Muffin." John said. "She's the cutest little cat, isn't she?"

"She sounds adorable."

Randy rolled his eyes. "We're busted, buddy. Muffin's my bulldog."

John sat down. "Okay, now tell me what's so funny."

Aubrie walked across the street to the park. She sat down on a bench and dialed the number Nicole given her.

"Hi." Nicole said.

"We've got a situation here."

"What's that?"

"The FBI showed up. They're investigating John for some reason."

"Why?"

"They think he's the spy."

"Something's fishy."

"Why?"

"I'm not up to speed on law-enforcement rules but I'm pretty sure the FBI doesn't get involved in cases unless they involve interstate crimes. There are local cosmetic firms, for crying out loud."

Aubrie hadn't thought of that. "You're right. Something stinks."

"Other than that, did they buy my suave-man routine?"

"I hate to tell you, but you're no Cary Grant."

"I work with what I have. But the point is, did John say anything?"

"He conveniently asked me out for tonight."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I'm otherwise occupied."

"Okay, here's the plan. Somehow let him know where we're going for supper."

"You mean you're going through with this?"

"Hey, I had fun. Let's see if he shows up. At worst we'll get dinner out of it."

"You are sneaky."

"Isn't it fun?"

"Extremely. But if you really want to fool anyone." Aubrie suggested. "You need some inserts."

"Inserts?"

"You want to look like a man in those pants or not?"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm the disguise specialist around here. You frankly look like a eunuch."

"I don't mind."

"Candi would."

"I don't believe this. Where in the world would I get inserts?"

"Have you checked your sock drawer lately?"

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	18. Chapter 18

Aubrie reluctantly donned her Candi attire, and headed downstairs—only to meet Mike all decked out as Michelle. She stopped short.

"Where have you been all day?"

"Busy, why?"

"Do you know we have the FBI traipsing around the office?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Mike said, adjusting everything from his chest to his cheeks.

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"They think John's a spy! You have to tell them different."

"Why? It's possible he is."

"He's working security for you, dipwad."

"So he says. The FBI thinks he might be greasing his palm on both sides, if you get my drift."

"I don't believe it."

"I don't either, but I'm not ruling anything out."

"Where are you going?" She asked. "And why Michelle?"

"The Fed wants to meet Michelle, esteemed leader, so I'm going to dinner with him and John. I believe the aim of the evening is a little spying on you."

"You have to be kidding me."

"Cena wants to keep an eye on you."

"Why?"

"Apparently he didn't like something he saw you doing today."

"I just made a date for supper with…an old buddy from college."

"Whatever."

"So once again you're horning in on my personal life."

"No, Cena and the Fed are. I'm just there so they can win and dine Michelle."

"Right."

Unfortunately, just then Gramps returned from the market. He looked at both of them and sighed. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Aubrie felt bad. She loved her grandfather with all her heart. She hated causing him distress. "Gramps, it's just—"

"I know, I know. An experiment. You know, Oprah would have a field day with this."

"We'll be sure to give her a call." Aubrie moved to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later. I love you."

Before she left, she made an emergency call to Nicole. "You really need to ratchet it up a notch. Company coming."

"I'm afraid of what you want me to ratchet up."

"I'm pumping it up. So should you."

Aubrie met Nicole, who was bearing a jarring resemblance to Groucho Marx, in the parking lot of a Japanese restaurant in Fairfax. Although Nicole had done an admirable job of trying to look as masculine as possible, Aubrie worried that she wouldn't stand up to close scrutiny. "No offense, but I wouldn't date you in a million years."

"No offense, but I could deflate those boobs in a nanosecond."

"Just so we understand each other."

Aubrie laughed as they walked in, feeling a strange camaraderie with this woman who was supposed to be the enemy. She didn't think she was betraying Mike, but she wasn't quite sure where the line was that she could possibly cross by mistake.

The good news was, she had the feeling Mike was beginning to feel differently about Nicole. The bad news was, Michelle was here. With John. And that FBI guy.

"Oh great." Nicole said the moment she spotted them. "When I told you to let John know where you'd be, I didn't think he'd bring the witch along."

"And that's the Fed sitting with them. It's just one big happy party."

A smiling Japanese man met them. "A table for two?"

"Yes." Aubrie said. "As far away from that large table over there"—she nodded in Mike's direction—"as possible."

But before the man could assess the possibilities, John looked over at them, then said something to Mike. Mike stood up and wobbled his way over to them. He really should have learned to master heels.

"Miss Morgan! How nice to see you. "My brother tells me great things about your work."

"Thank you, Ms. Mizanin." She said through gritted teeth. She really should have researched the word for killing a sibling, because she'd like to know what crime she'd be committing later tonight.

"I'd love to have you and your…date join us."

"No, thank you. We'd like to be alone." Aubrie turned back to the Japanese man. "How about that small corner table over there?"

The man nodded and bowed and then led them across the room.

"Why didn't you want to sit with them?" Nicole asked after they were seated.

"No offense, but your disguise—as good as it might be—could be detected."

"And you make a lousy bimbo."

"And besides, you hate my sister."

"Nicole the competitor hates your sister. I'm just your dweeb date and potential partner in crime."

Aubrie glanced toward Mike's table, only to find a scowl on John's face as he looked the couple over. "Besides, they FBI guy makes me nervous."

"Why do you think the FBI guy is out with John and Michelle?"

"I'm still a little sketchy on that." And that was the plain truth. She didn't understand the logic of these guys wanting to spend time spying on her and her "date" at all.

"I'm a little suspicious of the whole situation, unless the FBI guy is considering arresting me." Aubrie cocked her head in thought.

"Your sister is not going to let the guy do that."

"True. But I'm not so sure about John. He still suspects me."

"And now me." Nicole said with glee.

A waiter appeared at their table, carrying a bottle of champagne chilling on ice and two flutes. "Compliments of the three men over there." He said.

"Well, wasn't that nice of them." Nicole said, lowering her voice. "Whatever they're drinking, buy them a round on us."

Aubrie stared at her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"If they're trying to get us tipsy so we'll spill all of our secrets, it would be rude of us not to offer them the same."

Before their soups were even served, they'd traded drinks three times. Aubrie felt herself wobbling, and that was while she was sitting down. Then the notes began to arrive with the champagne.

You are the wind beneath my wings, J. Aubrie received first.

She countered with, You are the windbag beneath my feet, C.

For the rest of the meal, the two tables were trading drinks back and forth, and the poor waiter was a frazzled wreck. By the time they were finished with their sushi, Aubrie was feeling the drinks, great irritation, and an overwhelming high that had only to do with the champagne, she was sure. "I think we'll need to order a cab."

"Good idea." She called the waiter over. "Another round for the boys. And then steal their car keys."

"You know, with all this alcohol swapping, we haven't had time to act suspicious." Aubrie noted.

"Let's pay the check, then go into the lounge for a nightcap. What do you want to be they aren't far behind?"

"What if they see through your disguise up close?"

"At this point, who cares? That'll just make them all the more suspicious. Anyway, I've been in that lounge, it's really dark. And if they can see straight at this point, we didn't do our job."

Aubrie shrugged. "What the heck?"

They paid up then stood, and Nicole grabbed Aubrie's hand and led her on a path directly past John's table. "Thanks for the drinks, boys." She said. "And lady." She added, winking at Mike.

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	19. Chapter 19

They entered the lounge and headed to another corner table. Aubrie was almost surprised she didn't' topple over in her heels. Sober, she could barely navigate. Tipsy, she wasn't exactly the picture of grace. They were barely seated when the men entered and took a table fairly close to theirs.

Aubrie held her breath as they sized up Nicole. But all three of them were sort of squinting, so she probably didn't need to worry too much.

Nicole smiled at Mike. "Candi has been telling me wonderful things about you and your company."

Mike stared at Nicole for a minute and the irony was almost overwhelmingly funny. Aubrie almost wanted to shout, if there's anyone in this place who is who they say they are, please stand up. She had a feeling lots of butts would still be seated.

Mike stood and held out a hand to Nicole. "I'm so pleased to meet you. Any friend of Candi's is a friend of ours. And you are?"

"William….William Shakespeare."

Aubrie nearly peed her pants.

It took Mike a moment to find his voice. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, William. I take it your parents were literary."

"No. Why?"

"You know…Well, never mind. We'd love for you to join us."

"Candi, what do you think?"

What she thought couldn't be printed. But she shored up, because for some reason John looked gorgeous in Khakis and a hunter-green polo shirt, and being near him appealed to her. Still…..

"That's very nice of you, Ms. Mizanin. But I suspect you're in a meeting and we wouldn't want to interrupt."

"You won't be interrupting. Please, be my guest."

"I'll be sending you a big, fat thank-you not later."

Mike swallowed, which just emphasized his Adam's apple and once again Aubrie couldn't believe anyone would take him for anything but a man. But Nicole was so busy trying desperately to look like a man herself that she didn't appear to notice. If Aubrie wrote this story, not a single person would believe it.

They nodded at the cocktail waiter, who looked like he wasn't sure what to do. He probably thought a drag-queen fight was about to ensure. And she pretty much figured their dining room antics had already made the rounds back in the break room.

Mike held out a chair for Aubrie, leaving Nicole to fend for herself. It was obvious Nicole was a little put-out until she remembered she was a guy. What she obviously was missing was that Mike was a woman. At least tonight.

"John, you know Candi, right?" Mike said after sitting down.

"I do. Hello again, Candi."

Aubrie conjured a smile she wasn't exactly feeling, seeing that she knew darn well the man knew darn well that there was no such person as Candi. But she decided to go for it, if for no other reason than to make his squirm. "You never called me again, John, you bad boy."

John frowned and the FBI guy grinned. "I've….been busy."

"What girl hasn't heard that same old song?" She said. "I thought we had something special."

The FBI guy slapped a cocktail napkin to his mouth.

Mike cleared his throat, then said. "And this is William Shakespeare."

"Nice to meet you." Nicole said, keeping her hands under her armpits in an apparent attempt not to let anyone see her hands.

"William Shakes—"John stopped and smiled. "Nice to meet you. I take it your parents were big into literature?"

"No. Why?"

Mike dumped Aubrie into her chair. "And this gentleman is Randy Orton."

Greetings over with, they all sat down.

"Drinks?" Mike asked and Aubrie practically shouted, yes. She wasn't a drinker as a rule, but staying tipsy held a certain appeal. This surreal situation called for a slightly dazed state.

The Randy guy said, "You work for Michelle?"

"Yes." Aubrie said. "Part-time."

"Oh, that's probably why I didn't meet you today."

"Why? Are you coming to work for Rose Cosmetics?"

"No, I'm trying to decide whether to arrest this guy." The man said, hiking a thumb at John.

"Over dinner?"

"You can tell a lot about a man by the food he orders."

"I see." Aubrie frantically waved at the waiter. "Just what is he supposed to have done?"

"Money laundering."

John shook his head. "I keep telling you, I'm innocent."

"You have to admit, you ordered the California-roll platter."

"That makes me guilty of what? Liking avocados?"

"No, liking California."

"Is that illegal?" Aubrie said. "I know it's dumb, but is it really illegal?'

"It tells me he has an affinity for California."

The strange thing was, the only person not gaping at the Fed was Mike. He was acting as though this were a perfectly sane conversation. Aubrie suddenly felt as if she were in an Abbott and Costello skit, only she had no idea who was on first.

"It seems to me there's a simple solution here." She finally said into the silence.

"What is that?"

She batted her lashes. "Let's ask him." She turned to John. "Where do you stand on the orange issues?"

To his credit, he kept a perfectly straight face. "I prefer the Florida variety."

She looked at the Fed. "There you go."

The man pulled out a small notebook. Again. "So he's also operating in Florida."

Okay, this was a joke, but she wasn't going to let it be on her. She turned to Mike. "Where do you stand on the orange issue?"

"I prefer papaya."

"Aha! Arrest this ma—er, woman! She's obviously a smuggler from Hawaii.

"I like Salmon." Nicole chimed in.

"So my date here is not only doing business in Washington, he's also a pinko."

The waiter took their drink orders and left for the bar. A somewhat uncomfortable silence followed while the guy named Randy continued making notes. Right then the waiter returned with their drinks. Every single one of their group grabbed their glasses like lifelines.

Aubrie sat back. "Okay, what's the joke?" she asked Randy.

He looked up. "Joke?"

"You're about as FBI as a clown."

He set down his pad and pen. "I showed you my credentials."

"Right. I could probably buy one of those at the toy store."

"It doesn't pay to piss off a federal agent." Mike said.

""Find me one and I'll be sure to be polite."

Somehow the joke had been turned on Aubrie and Nicole and she couldn't figure out how. It had started out with her and Nicole pretending to be partners in crime, which had pretty much fallen through after the second bottle of champagne.

It was supposed to be about the FBI guy checking up on her, but he'd been too much of a smart-aleck for that to be the case. And he certainly wasn't grilling John about nefarious schemes too darn hard. Life was a little confusing. And the three men at the table were beginning to tick her off.

Randy looked at Mike. Flipping through his little notebook. "I thought you told me that Candi Morgan was somewhat…Wait, let me find it. Here it is. 'Cranium-challenged.'"

Both Mike and Nicole spit out their drinks. Aubrie would have tossed hers, but she couldn't decide which one of the lot of them she wanted to hit first. And it occurred to her that she really was supposed to be dumb. Not for Mike or Nicole or the scumbag, John, but probably for the fake Fed. So she set down her drink slowly and asked, "What's a cranium?"

This time John practically choked, which right now wasn't upsetting her too badly. When he caught his breath he said, "You know, one of those big construction machines that move big things from one place to another."

She smiled sweetly at him. What was the word for murdering a jerk? Justifiable homicide fit, but that was two words. There had to be one that encompassed the act, "Well, you're right about that. I never learned to use one of those things."

"In all of your jobs over the years? I'm surprised."

And it hit her. Of course. He'd figured her out because he was monitoring. Barrett's office the day she applied for the job. How, she wasn't quite sure, because when she looked in the mirror. Aubrie and Candi didn't look a thing alike. But something must have tipped him off. And she wanted to know what it was. She also wanted to know who this Randy person was. If that was his real name.

"Mr. Cena, may I see you at the bar for a moment?"

"You're not helping him get away, are you?" Randy asked.

"Trust me, if he's doing something illegal, I'll testify against him myself."

"But honey bunch—"Nicole started to say.

"Keep Michelle company." Aubrie said, feeling it was the least of what Mike deserved. "We'll be back shortly."

John followed Aubrie to the bar, half-excited, half-worried about what she wanted. She whirled on him so quickly, he almost rammed into her and knocked her over. He had to grab her shoulders to keep her from landing on that very, very cute rear end.

"What gave me away?" She all but spit out at him.

"Excuse me?"

"Give it up, Cena. I know you know."

"Know what?"

"I have mace and I know how to use it."

He backed up, laughing. "Down, boy."

"How'd you figure it out?"

He held out a stool for her and she sat. Then he shocked her by running his hand down her leg. He stuck a finger under her ankle bracelet and said, "This."

She stared down at it for a moment. "Damn, that was dumb."

"Well, in your defense, I don't think you're very experienced at this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing?"

"Espionage."

She plunked her hands on her hips. "Do you really think I'm guilty of that?"

"No. No offense, but anyone who'd hire you to spy for them would be pretty damn stupid."

"Thanks a bunch."

"Hey, that's a compliment."

"Oh, yeah, I'm flattered beyond belief."

"So why are you doing it?"

"Why are you pretending to be a handyman?"

"I never pretended that. You drew that conclusion, and I just chose to let you believe it."

She went still. "You're right. I made a snap judgment just on your appearance. I'm sorry."

"I came to a couple of conclusions myself that first day. No worries."

"Like what?"

"Like it's probably a bad idea to stick a pen down your jacket."

"Oh, my God, you saw that."

"The stuffing of the cell phone was inspired."

Her hands flew to her face. "You realize I can never look at you again."

He encircled her wrists and pulled. "Sure you can. But I'd rather you looked at me with darker hair."

She still wouldn't look up at him. "I'm not a spy."

"Of course not. But what the hell are you doing?"

She swallowed hard and turned her head. "I was testing a theory."

"What theory is that?"

"The one that said these"—she waved a hand in front of her chest—"Would help me get a job easier than this." She pointed at her temple.

"And you wanted to know this why?"

"I was writing my thesis. It was just a thought. A dumb one. I guess."

"Well, I have to admit you're a bad bimbo."

Finally she raised her eyes to his. "You asked me out because you thought I was a spy."

"Guilty."

"You weren't attracted to me at all."

"Not guilty. At least not to Candi."

She stared at him. "No way."

"Why is that so hard to believe? Do you really think this getup makes you more attractive?"

"Sexually? Yes."

"Who brainwashed you?"

Aubrie shook her head. "No one but me."

"Well, then you're dumber than I thought."

Just then Mike came over to the bar. "They're going to kick us out shortly. It's almost closing time."

"We'll be right there." John said. Then he took her shoulders. "What do you say if after we finish our drinks we ditch the others and go have coffee somewhere?"

"I'm on a date."

"Right. Tell Nicole you'll call her real soon."

Her eyes went wide. "You knew?"

"Please. You two are so bad you'd get bonged off the Gong Show."

He took her arm and started dragging her back to the table. Suddenly he wanted this night to be over as soon as possible.

Right before they hit the table, she stopped dead in her tracks. "Okay, as long as we're all coming clean, tell me, who is Randy Orton—if that is his real name, anyway?"

"Oh, he's definitely FBI."

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	20. Chapter 20

The rest of the evening didn't fare much better even though John had kept his promise not to "out" Nicole. But Aubrie was so busy disliking Randy for constantly insinuating that he was going to be hauling John off to the pokey at any moment, she had a hard time enjoying her drink.

Not to mention, there was something odd going on between Nicole and Mike. It was like they were attracted to each other, which made no sense, because Mike looked like Nanook of the North in lipstick, and Nicole looked positively twitchy in that mustache.

One thing she knew for sure; she wanted to spend time with John later tonight. Just as soon as she deflated her bra. It was hard to imagine that he really preferred her as herself than as Candi, but she believed him. She wasn't quite sure why, but she did. It might be the dumbest assessment she'd ever made, but so be it. She'd live with the consequences.

In between sips of his drink, Mike kept glancing over at her with a worried look in his eyes. He should be worried. He was in deep trouble. And he had a lot of explaining to do. Then again, all she had to do was look over at John, blissfully unconcerned about the FBI threat, and she couldn't fire up too much indignation. Whatever his reasons, she wasn't all that unhappy with the results. She just wished she could take off the damn bra already.

"So, what do you do for the FBI?' Nicole asked Randy.

"Fraud." He said, looking at her pointedly. Nicole's skin went pasty, and she dug back into her cocktail.

"What do you do, Mr. Shakespeare?" Randy asked.

"I'm in insurance."

"Is that how you and Candi met?"

"He wrote my auto insurance policy." Aubrie said, giving a loving squeeze to Nicole's forearm. "He was happy to do it, even after the….incident. Isn't he sweet?"

"Did I mention I investigate fraud?" Randy asked.

When the evening came to a blessed end, and Aubrie and John said their good-nights to Randy, Mike and Nicole, John turned to her. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

Talking was okay. She could do that. It wasn't number one on her priority list with him, however. Nonetheless, it was a start. "Where?"

"Yours is out, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, Jamie's at mine but she knows when to disappear."

"She doesn't have to disappear if we're just going to talk. It's her house too."

"She'll disappear."

"Good."

John's house was only five minutes from the restaurant. It was a neat ranch in a nice area of Fairfax. Aubrie knew how to get there, but she followed him anyway and pulled up behind him.

"I like your place." She said as they walked up to the front door.

"Thanks. I bought it from a friend."

He unlocked the door and gestured for her to go in ahead of him. The first thing she noticed was that the place smelled like cookies. The second was that Jamie was sitting on a navy couch, reading a book in Braille.

"Hiya, bro." Jamie said, putting the book aside. "Hey, Aubrie."

"Hi." Aubrie said, but looked up at John in amazement.

"Tell her how you knew." John said, grinning.

"Oh, please." Jamie said, as if it were a cakewalk. "Two sets of feet. You aren't alone. You unlocked the door, then allowed the person to precede you into the house. Obviously a woman. You haven't dated seriously in two years until recently. And you never shut up about her. Hi, Aubrie."

"Hi." Aubrie managed to squeak out again.

"My sister has a big mouth." John said, appearing a little flushed.

Jamie shrugged. "You asked." She bookmarked what she'd been reading and stood. "Cookies, anyone?"

"No, thank you." Aubrie said.

"You look tired." John said.

Jamie sighed. "Night."

"You don't have to go!" Aubrie said.

"Yes, she does."

"I'll go read in my bedroom. Aubrie, if you need me, just yell. I'm mean with a cane."

Aubrie laughed softly. "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

She marveled as she watched Jamie maneuver her way around the furniture, wave at them, then disappear down a dark hallway. Aubrie had a weird impulse to run and turn on the lights for her, but realized the absurdity of that. Jamie could take care of herself, and she certainly didn't need light.

"I love that you take care of your sister." She said softly.

John chuckled. "You have that backward. She takes care of me. Not to mention that she runs a business."

She shouldn't be shocked. But she was, a little. "What kind of business?"

"She caters birthday parties."

Aubrie smiled. "That is so cool! And I bet she's great at it."

"Of course she is. She's my sister isn't she?"

"Well, we all have our burdens to bear."

"Very funny. Would you like some coffee or tea or something?"

"Do you happen to have any wine or sherry?"

"Are you kidding? My sister's a professional cook. What would you like?"

"Sherry, if it's dry."

"Coming up."

He disappeared into the kitchen and Aubrie took the opportunity to look around. They had beautiful blown-up nature photographs on their walls that were captivating in their simplicity. The furniture was a little old and worn, and definitely not chosen for aesthetics but all of the pieces looked either comfortable or functional. She approved. Not that anyone had asked her opinion, but she approved.

John returned a moment later and set her sherry and a glass of wine for himself on the coffee table. She followed him to the old couch and sat down. Her heart was beating a little fast. Funny how just anticipating talking to a man could get her excited. But if she planned to be honest with herself, she really was excited.

And it wasn't just that he was handsome as sin. It was more that he happened to be about the most intriguing man she'd ever met. He'd had no problem passing himself off as a dimwit, just to do the job he'd been hired to do. This really interested Aubrie, in a couple of ways. First, she'd had no problem playing dumb, because she'd forced herself to do it to gauge reactions. But she'd have thought it would hit him where it hurt, as a man, to act like a clueless idiot. It hadn't bothered him at all. He obviously had a pretty good hold of his own masculinity and his mind to allow himself to come off as an idiot.

She hated to admit she admired that about him. She'd hated playing a ditz. He'd seemed to enjoy it. Still did, the turkey. And then, he obviously loved his sister. And truth to tell, she was certain he had layers she knew nothing about. And she wanted to peel them away, on by fascinating one. But she was such a dork. She didn't even know where to begin peeling.

Taking a sip of her drink, she glanced at him. "What are you smiling about?"

"Are you going to un-Candi yourself anytime soon?"

"Oh! May I? Please?"

"I'd be a lot happier."

"Bathroom?"

"You mean I don't get to watch you deflate your bra?"

"I know it's an exciting proposition." She said dryly.

"You have no idea."

"Maybe next time?"

He laughed. "Damn. Well okay, powder room down the hall. First door on the left."

She had to force herself not to run. She hit the bathroom, tossed off the wig, and shook out her hair. With a sigh of relief she popped out the contacts, and the piece de resistance was deflating her chest. It didn't matter if John was fibbing about liking her au naturel better, she liked herself better. So she wasn't' very busy. At least she didn't feel like the focal point for everyone she met was a quick trip south of eyes.

That thought brought her up short. She'd been excited about posing as a sexpot. But now it felt good to shed the entire charade. So she wasn't a beauty. At least if people liked her, they liked her for being Aubrie. That was good enough.

A thousand pounds felt as if it had just dropped from her shoulders, and she reveled in her new freedom. She came out of the bathroom sporting a huge smile, her only regret that she wore Candi clothes instead of Aubrie attire. But there was little she could do about that now. Her good mood must have been contagious, because when she looked at John he was grinning, too.

"Feel better?"

"Much."

"You look better too."

"Not hardly, but at least I'm closer to me."

"There you go."

"Excuse me?"

"Admitting you prefer being you is big."

He was right. Aubrie took a sip of sherry, then said, "Okay, I came clean. Now you."

"Well, technically I caught you."

"Don't try to duck the question."

"What do you want to know?"

"Who you are, for starters."

"Well, my real name is John—with an h."

She smacked his arm. "Funny you aren't."

He smiled, and every internal organ she owned melted. "What do you want to know?"

"Will you tell me the truth?"

"Am I a handyman?"

"No."

"Correct, I'm not. I'm in security."

"How'd you get into that line of work?"

He hesitated. "I was sort of trained for it."

"Yes? How?"

"Courtesy of the federal government."

"You were in the military?"

"Not exactly."

Aubrie blew breath out of frustrated lips. "Yes, you're really being forthcoming here."

"I started as a cop."

"Okay."

"Then I worked for the FBI."

Aubrie went still. "The FBI?"

"Yes."

"As in that Randy jerk FBI?"

"That Randy jerk was my partner."

"So he scared the hell out of me today for your pleasure?"

"Not exactly."

"What was it exactly?"

"It's a guy thing. You probably wouldn't get it."

"Give it a try."

"First of all, remember that you were still on my short list of suspects."

She'd have liked to screech her outrage, but common sense told her she didn't have a lot of solid ground to step on. If the man had figured out she was trying to get a job as two different people, naturally she'd be suspect. "Okay, I accept that, although I'm not sure how that's a guy thing."

"Second, I trust Randy's judgment above almost anyone else's except my sister's."

"So you had him size me up? Is that it?"

"Yes."

"That's a little harder to forgive."

"Third, I was jealous."

"Jealous?"

"Of that dweeb you were making a date with."

"That dweeb was Nicole."

"I realized that tonight, but on those monitors I couldn't make out her lovely manicure."

Aubrie didn't think she'd ever inspired jealousy before. Not that she thought it was a productive emotion but it certainly felt good that someone believed she was worth it. "I'm beginning to forgive you."

"Hallelujah." He said with a grin.

"Does Randy the jerk still work for the FBI?"

"For now. He's planning on retiring."

"Why did you retire?" Or did you?"

He laughed, but it sounded a little pained. "No, I wasn't fired. I retired because….well, I let Randy down."

He looked so sad, Aubrie wanted to hold him. "How's that?" He asked softly.

"It's a long story."

"Get me some more sherry and I have time."

They walked into the kitchen together and John started talking. Pretty reluctantly, Aubrie thought.

"I inadvertently put Randy and a couple of innocent civilians in danger. I brought a witness Randy and I were protecting to where he was vacationing. The thugs hoping to silence her found out where we were, and followed us. They mistook someone else for the witness, which forced Randy to take that woman away. But the bad guys kept following them."

"Seems to me it was the bad guys' fault."

He stopped in midpour and looked over at her. "That's what Leah keeps saying."

"Who's Leah?"

"The owner of the spa where Randy was staying. She was the one they mistook for the witness."

"But she's okay now, right?"

John smiled. "She's better than okay. She and Randy got married just a couple of months later, and they're expecting their first kid right now."

"Oh, that's wonderful! So what's your problem? It sounds like it was fate. Who knows? If they hadn't had to deal with that, maybe they wouldn't have gotten together."

"They were destined to fall in love from the first time they laid eyes on each other. They didn't need to be threatened with death to figure that out. In fact, the danger and the threat nearly drove them apart. Again, my fault."

"Yeah, Randy seems real mad at you, John."

He shook his head. "He's not and he never was."

"Then why are you?"

"Why am I what?"

"Mad at you?

He blew out a breath. "I told you. I nearly got them killed."

"So you gave up?"

"I did not give up. I changed direction."

She digested that for a moment, then nodded. "Basically, you don't put people in danger any longer; you try to protect them from it."

He riffled a hand through his hair, head down. "You make it sound noble. It's not. It was just decision I had to make."

"I think it was the right one."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

He snorted. "Like that was a good thing."

"If nothing else, you've been entertaining."

He looked at her, then set his wineglass on the counter and stepped toward her. "I could be a lot more entertaining if you'd let me."

Her pulse took off like a space shuttle. She had to wait a few moments before she trusted her voice. "What kind of entertainment are we talking about?"

He cupped the back of her neck and settled his lips on hers. It was gentle but demanding. She'd never felt anything so wonderful in her life. He broke the kiss and smiled. "Anything you want, pretty lady."

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	21. Chapter 21

"Well, the kind of entertainment I was thinking about we can't engage in here," Aubrie said, her voice shaky.

"Why not?"

"Jamie's here!"

"I promise she won't barge in on us."

Aubrie shook her head, cheeks flaming. "What happens to a woman who loses her sight?"

"What do you mean?"

"How does she compensate?"

"Through her other senses."

"Like hearing?"

"For one, yes."

"There you go."

"Aubrie, I'm not following you at all."

"Hearing!" She said, wondering if there was more to his dimwit act than she'd thought.

Finally, some of his brain cells decided to get in on the act. "Oh! You're afraid she'll hear us."

"Bingo, Einstein."

"We can be quiet."

"Maybe you can."

He stared at her. "Are you saying…you're a talker?"

"And a moaner and, if you're got it in you, kind of a screamer."

"Oh, Lord." He muttered, scrubbing his face.

"I'm sorry if that bothers you. I can't seem to help it."

"Bothers me? You're kidding, right?"

"Well, you never know." Aubrie put her head in her hands. "I wouldn't be telling you all this if you hadn't plied me with liquor tonight, you know."

"Trust me, right now I'm glad I did. It will not bother me." He hesitated. "I could have sworn you were—"

"Pure as the driven snow?"

"Well, something like that."

"I hate to disappoint you."

"Oh, yeah, I'm almost ready to cry."

She smiled. "So the honest truth is, I wouldn't enjoy myself at all if I were really self-conscious about Jamie hearing us."

He seemed to mull that over. "Okay, I hear ya. Or, more appropriately, I want to hear ya."

She looked at her watch. "Another truth. It's a school night."

"You could always play hooky tomorrow."

"Sorry, no can do. Aubrie's pulling double duty tomorrow, seeing that Candi is quitting."

"You're getting rid of Candi?"

"If I never see another blond wig or Pump You Up bra again in my lifetime I will die happy."

"But your experiment!"

"It's over. It wasn't' scientific in the least, and I think I've learned more than I wanted to know."

"I'm going to sort of miss Candi."

Her jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Oh honey, you were good for hours and hours of entertainment."

"I'm glad I amused you." She said, a little miffed—but not much. "I was that bad, wasn't' I?"

"You don't know how to be vacuous, Aubrie. And believe me I'm thrilled by that. Brains are so much sexier than breasts."

"Don't let other men hear you say that. You might be kicked out of the species."

He shook his head. "There are a bunch of us out there."

"Is it a secret society? Do you have a special handshake?"

He laughed. "The men who were more interested in your chest size aren't worthy of your time."

She was getting goopy all over again. Because she could tell he meant it. It was one thing to hear such sentiments from her brother and Gramps, but it was completely different from a man who was genuinely interested in making love to her. Especially a man like this one, who, she was certain, could have a woman with any chest size he wanted. She sighed. "Speaking of time, I really should get going."

He looked pained. "What are we going to do? You don't want to be with me here, and you've already mentioned that your house is off-limits."

She patted his chest. "You're a smart FBI guy. You'll probably figure something out."

"I pretty much have to. I'm not going to get any sleep until I do."

"Poor baby." She smiled. "Thanks for tonight. I actually had a good time."

"It could have been better." He muttered. But as she turned to go, he pulled her back. "Lady, if I'm not getting any sleep, neither are you." And with that he gave her a kiss that curled her toes and sent her pulse into aerobic levels.

Aubrie felt a little droopy the next morning, mostly because she'd hardly slept, thanks to a certain security specialist who kissed with a passion that she'd never experienced before. She tried to remember if anyone had kissed her like that in her life, and the honest answer was never. If she thought about it, kissing had always just seemed like a perfunctory prelude to getting naked. John kissed like it was his sustenance.

She'd marched into Mr. Barrett's office this morning and announced that Candi had called her the night before to say she was quitting, and could Aubrie cover until they found someone else. It had almost been comical to see the relief on Barrett's face.

On her morning break she trudged her way up to Mike's office. Luckily he wasn't in a meeting, and his secretary sent her right in.

"Howdy, big brother."

Mike's eyebrows rose. "What are you doing here?"

"Candi's dead."

"Excuse me?"

"Candi quit."

He sat back in his chair and tossed his pen on the desk. "And why is that?"

She dropped into a guest chair. "She wasn't really reliable anyway."

"You're finished playing dress up?"

"I wasn't playing. It was—"

"An experiment. Yes, I know. So you keep telling us."

She shrugged. "Whatever, it's done."

"Gramps will be very relieved. He was beginning to worry."

"Like you haven't added a few gray hairs to his head?"

"That'll be over soon, too."

"Thank God. You're not a very attractive girl."

"Speaking of attractive, what was with that date last night?"

"Just someone I know."

"William Shakespeare? What parent in his right mind would name a kid that?"

"I don't think they had a clue."

"Don't you think he's a little…um…effeminate?"

"I'm not marrying him, Mike. It was just someone to have dinner with." She frowned at him. "Speaking of which, what was with the ambush? Can I expect you to show up every time I have a date?"

He waved. "It was Cena's idea. He wanted to see what you were up to, and with whom."

"Well, the cat's out of the bag with him. Which is why Candi got a fast send-off."

"What do you mean the cat's out of the bag?"

"I told him my real reason for playing Barbie doll."

"Did you tell him you're my sister?"

"Not yet. But I will eventually."

He gave her a hard, piercing look. "And you feel the need to bare your soul to Cena why?"

"I like him."

"Funny enough, I approve."

"Oh, well, then I can die happy."

He grinned. "I'm still your older brother."

"Speaking of which, why don't you come clean about Michelle to him?"

"I will, but only right before I announce it to the staff."

"John wouldn't spill the news, Mike."

"I'm ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain you're right. It's more a matter of feeling like I owe it to the employees to be among the first to know."

She nodded. Knowing Mike and his ethics, it made perfect sense. But there was something about John that made her want to clear the air completely. Deception didn't sit well with her, she'd recently discovered. And she knew it hadn't sat well with Mike all these years, either. She'd be very happy when his charade was over with."

"Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I'm filling in for the time being, but I'm going to be handing in my notice, too. It's time for me to start looking for a job in my own field."

He smiled. "Barrett wont' be happy to hear that. He says you're great."

That gave her a warm fuzzy. "I'll kind of miss working with you." She said. "Not a lot but a teeny, tiny bit"

"Don't break down in tears or anything." He said.

Aubrie grinned. "You'll miss me, too."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"Well all righty then."

Aubrie stood up. "Well, back to the salt mines." She turned to go, then swung back "Just an observation?"

"What's that?"

"The best part of this experiment was seeing how much your employees like and respect you."

He went still. "That's nice of you to say."

"Are you kidding? You're my tyrannical big brother. I would have loved nothing more than to inform you that you're a jerk on the job."

"I'll bet. But you know, there's still at least one traitor among us."

That had her marching right back to his desk. "You really believe that?"

"I do."

"Do you still think Nicole knows about it?"

"I don't know."

"I don't believe it for a second."

"How are you so sure?"

"I'm a sociologist with a minor in psych. I'm a better judge of character than you are. And I believe her."

"How do you know so much about Nicole all of a sudden?"

"Now don't get mad."

"Of course not. I never get mad at you…at least not more than once a day."

"We've become friends, Mike. At least tentatively. I honestly believe she's a good, honest, fun person."

"I hope you're right."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"I thought you hated her."

"So did I."

Aubrie hid a smile as she turned to go, but once out of his office, she couldn't help it. She nearly skipped to the elevator. Her brother was toast.

Aubrie was a little miffed at John. It was almost noon and he hadn't bothered to stop by to see her all morning. Not that he was required to, just that she'd sort of expected a "Good morning." at least. And she'd held out a little bit of hope that he'd ask her to lunch, although until she quit the firm altogether, it probably wasn't a good idea.

So, she went to plan B. She grabbed her cell phone and headed to the bathroom. She didn't know if or how her office space was bugged and that annoyed her. She dialed Nicole's number.

Nicole answered on the third ring. "Well, hello."

"Hi, William."

Nicole laughed. "It was a spur-of-the-moment thing."

"It was hilarious."

"Thanks. Their faces were priceless."

"No kidding. Listen I know its short notice, but are you free for lunch?"

"Actually, I was about to have my secretary send out for a sandwich, but getting some fresh air sounds good."

"Do you know where Lacy's Deli is?"

"Yep. Good stuff."

"About a half hour?"

"See you then."

John spent the morning taking Randy on tours of clients' facilities and explaining the intricacies of the different system his company had installed in the last few years. As John knew he would be, Randy was a quick learner. Of course, they'd had to learn a lot about security over the years with the FBI, so it wasn't a stretch.

They stopped for lunch at a diner on Route 7. After ordering burgers, John said. "So what do you think?"

"I have to say, I'm pretty excited about the opportunity."

John smiled. "Great." Working with Randy again, even if they weren't actually in the same location, was a superb opportunity. "But are you positive you want to leave the Bureau?"

"Were you positive?"

"Not at all. I just knew it was the right thing to do. For me."

"Well, I can't say I won't miss some of it. But I won't miss how much time I'm forced to be away from Leah and I sure as hell don't want to be away from the baby."

Baby. Even the word brought back an ache in John's gut. His child would be almost ten years old now, if—Randy and Leah to resent their having what he'd lost a decade ago. He conjured up a smile. "So it's a boy, huh?"

"Yes, I should have known. Once Leah decided something, she usually gets her way."

"Stubborn wench."

"Tell me about it." Randy said but he had the goofiest grin on his face.

"Picked out a name?"

"No. Leah wants him to be Randy Junior and call him RJ. I'm still fighting that. No kid should have to be named after me."

"You can always name him John."

"RJ it is."

John laughed. "Tell Leah she's welcome."

Their food arrived and they dug in. In between bites they discussed the logistics of setting up an office in Richmond.

"We'll have to rename the company. How about C and R Securities?"

"We don't have to rename it at all if you don't want. You founded the company."

"No. This is a partnership, pal."

"Speaking of partnerships, what's up on the dating scene? Why aren't you hitched yet?"

John stopped chewing. "You know why."

"That was a long time ago."

"Not long enough."

Randy shook his head. "When are you going to figure out that Krista was an aberration?"

"Krista was an abomination."

"She was one woman. Giving her this much power over you still is a loss on your side and a win on hers. Why are you letting her get away with this for so long? She's not worth it, buddy."

"I know."

"Then let it go already."

"I'm working on it."

"You'd think I'd be the last person to say this, but when you find the right lady, it's the greatest thing that will ever happen to you."

"You stole the last great lady."

"That's because I'm so charming." He put down his burger. "Seriously, aren't you interested in it at all? Are you even looking?"

"Interested in marriage? No. Interested in a relationship of some sort? Possibly."

"Why does the name Aubrie pop into my head?"

"Since when did you become such a matchmaker?

"You've got to admit, she'd beautiful."

"Yes, she is."

"Except in that getup. Jeez, what was she thinking?"

"Believe it or not, she was experimenting."

"Now that I think about it, in that getup she's just your type."

John could hardly dispute that. "I'm not so sure about that anymore."

"Then you finally are growing up."

"Anyway, she has this idea that she's so plain that she's almost invisible."

"Oh, so she's blind." Randy stopped. "I'm sorry, that was a really dumb thing to say."

John waved. "Not a problem. Jamie sees Aubrie better than Aubrie does."

"Doesn't surprise me. Jamie's one smart and intuitive lady."

"Guess what Aubrie told me last night."

"What's that?"

John looked around to make certain no one could overhear them. He probably shouldn't even be telling his best friend. Aubrie would not be happy. But he had never professed to be anything but a dumb, hormonal male. And he knew he could trust Randy with his life—had to on many occasions. "She thinks she's a screamer."

Randy grinned. "What do you mean, 'told you'? You mean you don't know."

"Not yet."

"You're slowing down, buddy."

"Well, she's also shy about it. I haven't had the opportunity to find out."

"Do you want to?"

"More than take my next breath."

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	22. Chapter 22

Nicole and Aubrie sat down at a window booth in the deli. Aubrie marveled that the beautiful woman before her didn't translate well into a man. Of course, Mike wasn't exactly the most breathtaking female, either.

Nicole wore a simple cream suit with a turquoise silk blouse underneath. Her hair was loose and slightly curled at the ends. She'd be perfect for Mike, just as soon as he stopped viewing her as the enemy.

Aubrie ordered the tuna salad and Nicole went with chicken salad. Then they smiled across the table at each other.

"I had fun last night." Nicole said.

"So did I."

"Michelle can be nice when she's not talking to me."

"I think she's mellowing about that a little bit. She's been listening to Mike, and he's definitely having doubts about your guilt on this one."

Nicole's smile turned soft, but then became a little trouble. "Can I ask you something really blunt?"

"Sure."

"Have you ever….wondered about being with a woman?"

Aubrie almost fell out of her chair. "Um, no. Not that there's anything wrong with that!" But there went her plans for Mike and Nicole. "Why?"

Nicole shook her head. "I don't know. As much as I'd like to punch Michelle in the nose…" Her voice trailed off. Then she added. "Trust me, this brand-new to me too. I mean, I love men."

Oh boy.

Nicole waited until the waiter deposited their iced teas, then dug into the pail on the table filled with chunks of kosher pickles. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Forget I said anything about it."

"No, really, it's all right. But has it ever occurred to you that you might find Chelle attractive because she looks a lot like Mike?"

Nicole stopped in midcrunch. "I never thought of that." She finished her pickle piece, then shook her head. "No, I don't think that's it. Or not all of it. Mike's really good-looking, no doubt about it. And I think he has the potential to be a really decent guy. But there's something about Michelle that is kind of….I don't know….stimulating?"

"Maybe you enjoy the heat of battle?"

"Maybe. Because Lord knows Michelle isn't cover model material. No offense."

"None taken."

"I mean, if I wanted a woman, why wouldn't it be someone like you?"

Aubrie sat back and laughed. "Because I'm not cover model material either?"

"Oh, please. I'd use you in my ads in a second."

"That's sweet really."

"You should know me well enough by now to know I don't do sweet."

Their lunch arrived and they were silent for a bit. Aubrie was so taken aback by Nicole's confidences regarding her attraction to Michelle, and her unexpected compliment, that she almost forgot why she'd called the other woman to meet in the first place. Her mind had shut down.

Suddenly Nicole said. "Do you think Michelle's gay?"

That jarred her mind awake. "Definitely not. Not unless she hides it well. And she's too honest to hide something like that."

"Oh. I was thinking maybe I was picking up on vibes or something."

"But you don't get those vibes from Mike?"

Nicole mulled that one for a bit. "I hadn't thought about it. But I suppose I do. Except Mike is so reasonable."

"Because I kept thinking you two would make a great couple."

"Oh jeez. Mike might be a nice guy, but he'd never dated me as long as Michelle hates me so much."

Aubrie wiped her mouth on the paper napkin. "So that's a really good reason to prove to Michelle that you're not spying on her company."

"Why are you so willing to believe me?"

"Because I'm a great judge of character, and I like you."

"See? Now why couldn't you be gay?"

Aubrie laughed. "Sorry."

"You know, I've been so busy going on and on about myself, I haven't even asked if there was a reason you wanted to do lunch,"

"There was, but it kind of slipped my mind."

"Does it have anything to do with last night?"

"Oh! Right. First of all, Candi has been permanently retired."

"Really? Why? She was kind of fun."

"She's outlived her usefulness. And if I had to wear that bra one more time I couldn't be responsible for the many felonies I'd commit."

Nicole laughed. "Good point."

"But here's the funny part. You were caught last night."

"Michelle knew?"

"No, she's dumb as a brick when it comes to observing people."

"Then who?"

"John."

"Is that right? Why didn't he call me on it?"

"I asked him not to."

"Why?"

"Because I was kind of hoping you'd get to know Michelle from a different perspective."

"Well, in that you succeeded. She was almost human."

"Amazing, isn't' it?"

Nicole smiled and glanced out the window. Aubrie followed her gaze when her eyes narrowed. "That looks like Michael Cole's nephew. Wonder what he's doing riding his bike on this side of town."

Aubrie turned back to Nicole. "You know Alex Riley?"

"Sure. Not well, but I've met him a few times at his uncle's picnics. Michael loves to throw barbecues."

"Who is Michael?"

"One of my chemists. Why?"

"Isn't that interesting?"

"Why?"

"Alex's one of our interns."

John raced back to the Rose Cosmetics offices after receiving a frantic, almost incoherent voice message from Aubrie. When he got to her office she was pacing, and her body screamed agitation.

"Who died?"

She practically jumped a mile, then raced to him. "Let's go for walk."

"Why, honey, I didn't know you'd miss me so much."

"Shut up, dummy, and walk."

They headed to the park across the street, and if John weren't so concerned over what had Aubrie so riled up, he'd have taken more time to appreciate the way she filled out the navy suit she was wearing.

When they were nearly half a block away, she looked over her shoulder at the building, then turned back to him. "I might have a lead on our mole."

"Excuse me?"

She quickly told him about the relationship between Alex Riley and an Apple Day employee.

"It might not be anything but then it might be." She finished up, and sucked in her first breath since she started blurting out the news.

"It sure is worth looking into."

"You think so?"

"Of course."

"One other thing. Nicole wants to know if she can hire you, too, if anything comes of this. She's as appalled at the possibility of corporate espionage as we are."

He shook his head. "I'd have to clear it with Michelle and Mike. It could be a conflict of interest."

"Or it could benefit both companies."

"I'd still need to clear it."

"Okay."

He smiled. "Ya done good, sweetheart."

She beamed with pride. "Yeah I did, didn't I?"

It was a gray day overhead, but that smile felt like the sun had just come out shining in all its warmth and glory. Something strange twisted in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long, long time. "Will you go out with me Friday?"

Her smile instantly turned shy. "What are we going to do?"

He had no idea at the moment. All he knew was that it had to be something completely private and farther out of town. "Someplace where none of your employers can drop in to check up on their little spy."

Aubrie gulped. "Little spy? I'm not a spy."

"Randy's still assessing the situation."

"Why haven't you said anything?"

"I was waiting for you to tell him off."

"I couldn't tell him off playing an airhead, now could I?"

"You gave it the good old college try."

"Well, he's investigating you. I didn't like that."

"No, he's investigating you, sweetheart."

This is a disaster." She said. "I just wanted to be wild. I never wanted to cause an international disaster."

"I don't think the world will self-destruct."

"So where will we go?"

"It's a surprise."

Her eyes lit up. "I love surprises."

"Me too."

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	23. Chapter 23

That afternoon Mike and John and Aubrie met in Mike's office. Mark immediately asked, "Where's Michelle? She should be here."

"She had to fly down to Charlotte this morning." Mike said smoothly.

"She didn't mention anything about a trip last night."

"It just came up this morning. We had a problem at one of our factories."

"Can we conference call her?"

"Doubtful. I'm fairly sure she's touring and in strategy meetings and she won't want to be disturbed."

John frowned. "I thought she considered this a top-priority issue."

"It is, but she certainly trusts me to make a decision on how to proceed."

Right then Mike's phone buzzed. "Yes, Mrs. Leeds?"

"Nicole Miller is here to see you."

Aubrie suddenly found great interest in a paperweight. She was the one who'd phone Nicole and told her to come and help.

Mike scowled and covered the receiver. "What's she doing here?" He asked John.

"I have no idea."

"I asked her to come." Aubrie finally confessed. "I thought we should all talk this through."

"You realize you're consorting with the enemy."

"I don't believe she's the enemy." Aubrie countered. "Having her on our side is in our best interests."

"No offense, little sister but you're a secretary here."

"Little sister?" John said.

Aubrie and Mike looked at each other. Finally, Mike said. "Did I forget to mention that?"

John didn't appear happy. In fact, he appeared downright ticked. "Yes, apparently you left that out."

"Oops." Mike said.

"You know, this is really getting irritating." John said. "How am I supposed to do my job when the three of you are lying to me about little facts that just happen to be important?"

"We didn't think it mattered in this situation."

"Don't you realize I was focusing a lot of time and attention on her?" John said, hiking a thumb in Aubrie's direction. "Because you thought it was cute that I didn't know she was your sister?"

There went their alone date this weekend, Aubrie thought glumly. But she rallied, because right now they had more pressing issues to address. "It's my fault." She said to John. "I didn't want anyone to know because it would color the way people reacted to me."

"I was ready to bust your butt, babe." John growled.

"Can we talk about this later?" She asked.

"Oh, we most definitely well."

Aubrie nodded, even thought she felt a sudden need to run to the bathroom and throw up. "Mike, Nicole wants answers as much as we do. Working together gives us strength."

John's thundercloud expression faded slowly, but it did finally fade. He nodded and stepped forward. "If it weren't for Aubrie and Nicole, we wouldn't have this lead. I think we should hear Nicole out."

Mike rolled his eyes, but finally he spoke into the phone. "Send her in."

He relaxed back in his chair and put on his conciliatory face. But the moment Nicole walked through the door; something fired up his eyes that Aubrie—though not an expert—considered a huge sign of appreciation and interest.

Mike stood and straightened his tie. He rarely wore a suit but he never came to the office without a tie. "Hello Nicole. Have a seat."

"Thank you." She said, sitting down beside Aubrie and crossing her mile-long legs gracefully. "And thank you for letting me talk this through with you."

Mike nodded. "We might as well pool information."

John and Aubrie exchanged glances. Apparently Mike had made up his mind to at least listen. Aubrie saw approval in John's eyes, right below his promise of future retribution.

"I want you to know I'm as eager to get to the truth as you and Rose Cosmetics are, Mike. If we have traitors among us, let's both get them."

Mike looked hard at Nicole for a moment, then offered a curt nod. "I just want to warn you of one thing, Nicole."

"Yes?"

"If we find who and what we're looking for and that person or those people claim that you had knowledge of their activities, we will sue."

"As well you should."

"And ask that criminal charges be brought."

"As well you should." She leaned forward. "But let me just tell you something, Mr. Mizanin. I might be ambitious and I might be trying to grab some of your market share, but there is no way in hell I'd do anything illegal or unethical to achieve those goals. I can beat you people the good old-fashioned way. So stick that where the sun don't shine."

Aubrie had to hold her hands tightly to keep from clapping. Mike sat back as if he'd been sucker punched. John made something of a strangling noise. And then all was quiet for a moment.

Finally Mike sat forward. "Okay, let's do it."

Nicole leaned forward in response, and Aubrie could practically see the sparks flying between Nicole and her brother. And they weren't sparks of anger; that was for sure. It seemed to be a mixture of two people bonding together to right a wrong, two people ready to join forces marching into battle, and two people who'd just gained a modicum of respect for each other.

Aubrie didn't care in what proportion. What mattered to her was that the sparks weren't only heating up their warring instincts. If she'd ever witnessed two people who suddenly discovered basic attraction, this was it. Well, except the first time John had gazed at her with that smoky, passionately look in his eyes and she'd just done a snow-cone-in-the-desert routine.

She had the feeling John had seen and been affected by it too. Because he surreptitiously ran a finger up her spine. And she had a hard time keeping from shivering. Or jumping up and throwing herself at him. Except she didn't know if his touch was of a sexual nature, or revenglike. It took her a moment to realize she'd zoned out on the discussion. She tuned back in.

"Mike, let me hire John to work with us as well."

"Why would I do that?"

Nicole threw up her hands. "Why wouldn't you? We're working for a common goal and John knows more about the case than any security firm I might hire on my own."

"She has a point." Aubrie said.

"How do I know you won't try to get John to come over to the dark side?"

Aubrie gasped and jumped up. "Does he look like Darth Vader to you?" She practically screamed.

"It's okay Aubrie." John said, grabbing her arm. "It's a legitimate question."

She shrugged off his hand and leaned over the desk, glaring at her brother. "This guy has worked his tail off for you. He's ex-FBI. You honestly think he'd betray us that way?"

Mike grinned. "No. But I was sort of expecting the indignation to come from him."

"Oh." Aubrie slumped back down in her chair.

Nicole chuckled. "Don't worry, Aubrie, I know where John's first allegiance lies. All I'm asking is that he helps me catch a thief. And proves that I knew nothing about it."

"Oh." Aubrie felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot." John said.

Mike looked at Nicole and John. "Rose Cosmetics doesn't consider Apple Day's hiring Cena Securities in this investigation a conflict of interest."

"What about Michelle?" Nicole asked, her nose wrinkled.

"Leave Michelle to me." Mike said.

John looked at Nicole." When's a good time for us to talk strategy?"

She checked her watch. "How about four this afternoon at my office?"

"Works for me."

Aubrie had to fight the tiniest inkling of jealousy. After all, Nicole was about the most glamorous and beautiful woman she knew. But she tamped it down with a little bit of effort. Mike looked at Aubrie pensively. "You know, Alex has a huge crush on you."

She snorted. "He has a huge crush on Candi's boobs."

"So get him to talk to Candi's boobs."

"Right. He 's going to tell my boobs that he's a thief."

"I don't want him talking to Candi's boobs." John said.

"Okay, bad idea." Mike agreed. "Let's catch him the old-fashioned way."

"Candi's boobs would be the old-fashioned way." Nicole said. "But right now I don't like it, either."

John nodded. "We'll get him the new-fangled way—with modern technology." He paused. "We hope."

And with that, they concluded the meeting, although Nicole said to Mike. "I have one more thing to talk to you about."

Aubrie and John took the cue and left the office.

"Well, that went well." Aubrie said, trying to forget her stupid and irrational outburst. She should have known Mike had been teasing.

"Yes, it did, Tiger."

Apparently John wasn't going to let her forget so easily.

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	24. Chapter 24

"Are we still on for Friday?" he asked as they walked to the elevator from Mike's office.

"After what you just learned, I didn't think you'd want to." She said, trying to keep the glumness out of her voice.

"Oh, I still want to."

Hope bubbled. "So you aren't mad?"

"Of course I'm mad."

"Then why would you want to?"

"Because the Aubrie I want to see Friday is the private Aubrie. This was business." They stopped at the elevator doors and he punched the button. "Unless there are secrets that private Aubrie is keeping from me."

Aubrie swallowed hard as her conscience kicked in. Was the Michelle thing private? Not really, her mind argued. Michelle was all about Rose Cosmetics. That constituted business. And besides, it was not her secret to tell.

She shook her head. "The private Aubrie is in the clear, I think." She said.

"Good." He said, then waved her into the open elevator. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Oh, me too! her heart screamed. But she just smiled. "Friday."

With Aubrie and John out of the office, Mike looked at Nicole, trying not to notice how beautiful she was. That would be dangerous. Not to mention stupid. If she was lying about all of this, he'd feel like a total idiot for allowing her to snow him. But he couldn't help really, really hoping she was telling the truth. But he didn't think he wanted to know why.

"So, what else?" He asked, hoping it would be a lengthy discussion so she'd stick around longer.

"I'm suggesting full disclosure with each other."

"What do you mean?"

"We can't tie John in knots by making him feel he has to constantly be concerned with client confidentiality. I promise I will give him free rein to discuss with you what's happening at Apple Day if you promise he can do the same with me."

Mike shook his head. "What are we doing here, Nicole? We're competitors."

She sighed. "Do you follow sports?"

"Yes, why?"

"You know how the Cowboys and the Redskins hate each other during the regular season?"

"I do, although what this has to do with face cream and perfume is beyond me."

"And do you know that during the All-Star game, Cowboys and Redskins band together as a team to win?"

Damn, she was good at analogies. "I get your point."

"Good. Full disclosure. Both ways. We're playing the All-Star game right now, buddy. And just as soon as we learn the enemy's game plan, and beat him, we can go back to trying to kick each other's butt."

His admiration for her was climbing at alarming rate. He had to watch that. "Okay, coach, full disclosure."

She smiled and his heart did a double take. He rarely was blessed with a smile from Nicole.

"One more observation." She said.

"That you think I'm cute?" He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as the words slipped by him.

She laughed a smoky sound that was causing belly fires. "Granted. But you're still a Cowboy."

"No, I'm a Redskin."

"Cute but ornery." She said dryly.

He grinned. "Okay, what's your real observation?"

"I have this funny feeling that Aubrie has it bad." She said, her head jerking toward the office door.

"I have the funny feeling John isn't far behind."

"I think you're right."

And they smiled at each other and Mike felt lost. It took him a moment to say. "Anything else?"

She stood up and he jumped up right after her. "Nope, that about does It." she said. When he shook her hand he didn't want to let go. He had to force himself to loosen his grip so she could escape.

"Thanks again, Mike." She said, then turned toward the door.

Right before she got there, he stopped her. "Nicole?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"It's a pleasure to be working with you for once."

She laughed. "Don't be so sure. I still plan on kicking your butt in the market."

"Don't you wish?" He said, but he grinned too. When she began to leave again he said. "Nicole?"

"Yes?"

"For what it's worth, I believe you."

She stopped and took a short, loud breath. "Whether you believe this or not, that means a lot to me. I believe in your integrity. I can't wait to prove mine."

And then she left, and Mike stared at the door for a long time, a sick feeling in his gut. His integrity was going to be called into question very soon. Because he'd been living and acting a lie for years now.

And soon, very soon, Nicole was going to realize that.

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	25. Chapter 25

"Where are you two going together?" Mike demanded Friday morning, as Aubrie drank her juice.

"I don't have any idea."

"Well, get an idea."

"Why? It's surprise. I like surprises."

"Well, I don't. I want to have some clue here."

She smiled and patted his cheek, then handed him his orange juice. "I think the entire point is that you don't know. We'd just as soon you don't show up with another entourage to keep an eye on me."

"I don't—"

"Oh, but you do. Your track record in keeping your nose out of my business isn't stellar."

"You're my little sister."

"Who is all grown-up now?"

"What's this all about?" Gramps said in the doorway. It was obvious he'd come back from his morning walk. The man woke up way too early.

"Aubrie has a date tonight."

"My, we're getting popular these days. I hope you're not going on this one in the blond getup."

She poured Gramps his juice, then took it to him and kissed his cheek. "Nope, I'm all me tonight."

"Good." He gulped down about half the glass at once, then said. "So why the yelling in here?"

"We weren't yelling."

"Yes, you were."

Aubrie pointed to Mike. "He's driving me nuts."

"And life goes on." Gramps said.

Mike pointed at Aubrie. "She's going out tonight and she won't say where."

"So? What business is it of yours?" He turned to Aubrie. "Where are you going tonight?"

"You just said it was none of your business!"

"I said it wasn't his business. But I'm your grandfather."

If she didn't go crazy in this household, it would be a miracle. Or maybe she'd already gone crazy in this household and she was too crazy to realize it.

"I don't know where we're going and even if I did, I wouldn't tell either of you. I'll have my cell phone and if there's an emergency, something like Mike finally getting a life—"

"Hey!"

"—just give me a call and I'll crack open the champagne." With that she slammed down her juice glass in the sink and sailed out of the kitchen, nose raised high.

She stomped to her bedroom and looked through the closet. The problem was, she had no idea what they were doing, so figuring out how to dress was a dilemma. She liked surprises with the best of them, but she sure didn't want to show up in an evening gown to go to a honky-tonk, and she didn't want wear jeans to a five-star restaurant. She was beginning to resent surprises.

Gramps came to her bedroom and knocked on the partially open door. "Come on in."

He'd refreshed his juice and just stood silent for a while. Finally he said. "I'm not trying to interfere. But we like this guy right?"

"We do. We think. This is just new Gramps."

"But you're going to some undisclosed location."

"I told you, I'll have my cell phone."

"Can you maybe call just to tell us where you are when you get there?"

She sighed. "Gramps, I love you dearly, but I'm twenty-eight years old. I can take care of myself"

He held up a hand. "Of course you can. And you deserve your privacy. You're just my baby, Aubrie."

She instantly teared up and quickly waved her hand in front of her eyes. "I know."

"I love you, little girl."

"I love you too, Gramps."

"Well, that's about it." He turned to go and then turned back. "You know, there's one thing I heard on the Sandra show."

She resisted the urge to roll eyes. "What's that?"

"Always stick a clean toothbrush in your purse. Just in case."

She gaped at him for a moment. "Well, thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

"Aubrie?"

"Yes?"

"If you intentionally don't plan to come home tonight, please call. Just so I know to turn off the porch light."

She smiled and choked up all at once. "I promise."

John called her midafternoon."Are you ready for tonight?"

She wanted him to define "tonight", but figured asking was probably not very tactful. "I'm game if you're game." She said, holding her hand to her chest to keep it from bursting.

"Should I pick you up, or are you still scared to let me know where you live? After all, I've pretty much guessed why you didn't want me to know before now."

"Do you want to go through the grilling from my family?"

"Umm, I can if you want me to."

"How about if I come to your house and we can leave from there?"

"That sounds good." He said, his tone obviously relieved. "Seven?"

"I can be there, but John, I have no idea what to wear."

"Come completely casual. Shorts or jeans, whatever's comfortable."

"That sounds wonderful. I'll see you then."

"I can't wait."

She smiled as she hung up the phone.

Aubrie made the mistake of arriving ten minutes early at John's house.

"He had a meeting that ran late. He's in the shower. He'll be out in sec." Jamie said." Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, although something smells really good."

"I hope so." Jamie said which was sort of a strange response. "Come on in and sit down."

"Do you have a birthday gig coming up?" Aubrie asked.

"Six in five days." Jamie said with a sigh. "Tomorrow's a clown them. Between you and me, I hate those. Perfectly good pies being thrown in people's faces for a few laughs."

"I never liked pie-in-the-face gags."

"I never liked clowns."

Aubrie had about a zillion questions she'd love to ask Jamie, both about herself and John, but she was too afraid of being rude.

"So are you going to use and abuse my brother tonight?" Jamie asked, apparently not nearly so worried.

"Umm, do you want me to?"

"Hell, yes!"

"Then I'll do my best."

"I want him crawling home whimpering."

Aubrie laughed. "I'm not certain I'm capable of that, but you know, I'd hate to disappoint you."

"Just work on it."

Before she could respond John came sprinting out of his bedroom, combing his wet hair with his hands. "I'm so sorry."

"Not a problem. Jamie was just giving me some very sage advice."

John glared at his sister.

"Stop glaring at me." His sister said.

"Your advice sucks." John said.

"And your technique needs work."

Aubrie felt like she was watching a tennis match.

"What's Aubrie wearing?"

John looked at her and smiled. "A black denim miniskirt and a paisley kind of short-sleeved button-down thing."

Jamie nodded while Aubrie's skin went hot. "Sounds pretty."

"It is."

"Okay, I approve. Go away."

"I'll call you, okay?" John said.

"Only if you're not going to be home. I don't want to have to leave the porch light on for no reason."

Aubrie couldn't help it; she burst out laughing.

"What?"

"We have got to introduce Jamie to my grandfather. They'd become best friends in minutes."

Aubrie had been worried all week that John would try to wine and dine her in some ridiculously expensive, romantic restaurant. So when he'd told her to dress casually, she'd actually felt a huge sense of relief. He'd be taking her to some off-the-beaten-path diner or something. She'd never in a million years expected this.

"You want to time the windmill just right." He advised. "Otherwise the golf ball is going to fly right back at you."

They were Putt-Putt golfing at a place outside of Leesburg. She nodded at him, trying to keep a straight face.

"Thanks for the advice." She teed up the ball, took a couple of looks, then swung. It sailed smoothly through the device and dropped like a stone into the hole.

He stared at the green, at her, and then at the green again. "You've done this before."

"Every Friday night with my gramps."

"You tricked me."

"You never asked."

"Okay, this is war."

She laughed and the feeling of happiness and contentment was almost like a drug. She'd have never believed a man like John would choose Putt-Putt as a prelude to a romantic night. But what a perfect choice.

She flung her putter over her shoulder. "Care to make a few friendly wagers?"

"I might." He said. He set up and looked. And looked. And looked. Then shot. The ball flew back at him and almost took him out in a place she most definitely didn't want injured.

"About those wages." She said.

"Not one chance in hell."

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	26. Chapter 26

Their next destination thrilled her so much she almost clapped with delight. A county fair! She hadn't been to one of these in ages. They parked the car and strolled down the midway, inhaling scents, goggling at the sights. At some point John casually took her hand in his and she reveled in the warmth and strength of him.

John pointed out a shooting gallery. "You might be fairly good at Putt-Putt, sport, but how's your shot?"

"Fairly good? I beat you by fifteen strokes, buddy."

He steered her toward the booth. "It's rude to rub it in."

"And it's rude to try to bolster your male pride by challenging me to a shooting contest, especially since you've been wearing a gun most of your life."

"Those guns were just sissy little Glocks. These are rifles. Big difference."

"I've never held a gun in my life, and I'm not about to begin now." She said.

"Chicken."

"That's right. But don't get me lone in the dark with a putter in my hands."

He almost choked. She didn't understand what was so funny about that until it occurred to her that what she'd said could be taken a couple of ways. She smacked his arm. "Men!"

"Come on." He said, dragging her to another booth, bypassing the shooting gallery, she realized thankfully. "How do you feel about water pistols?"

"I think I can handle one of those."

Ten minutes later Aubrie walked away with a teddy bear. Unfortunately, John had won it.

"You know, if you ever get into a mortal water-pistol shoot-out, you'd be a goner." He said.

"Gloating is so rude."

He grinned. "I know. Your humility after the Putt-Putt win was an inspiration."

Aubrie looked down and smiled.

"How do you feel about Ferris wheels?" He asked, draping an arm across her shoulders.

"Love them."

"Then let's go."

They climbed in and within seconds were underway. After a few breathtaking turns, they found themselves stopped at the top of the wheel. "Nice view." Aubrie said.

"Beautiful." John responded, but he wasn't looking at the fair beneath them.

She caught her breath as their eyes met. And before God and everyone else, John lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips were a little chilled from the wind, but they warmed up fast. And Aubrie felt almost high on something as her senses all came to life. His mouth moved over hers, coaxing and demanding, soft and hard. She didn't know how to explain it. She just knew it could go on forever and she'd be happy.

She was so lost in the sensation of him; she didn't even feel them begin to move. Not until they came to a slightly jerky stop. And she heard someone loudly clearing his throat.

Reluctantly she broke the kiss, then almost squealed with mortification when she realized they were down on the platform and the ride attendant was waiting for them to unload.

"Oh!" She said, trying to untangle their limbs, which had somehow become intertwined during the kiss.

"Sorry about that." John said to the man, but there wasn't a speck of regret in his tone. Instead he was laughing.

Aubrie tried to make the best of it and gave the man a wobbly smile. But she wanted to disappear in a puff of smoke when the people waiting in line to board the ride began applauding.

John hadn't had this much fun in he couldn't remember how long. Even getting his butt kicked at Putt-Putt had been a blast. He'd suspected after their date at the drive-in that Aubrie would prefer simple pleasures to opulent wooing.

And her delight was like an aphrodisiac that just kept on giving. He had hoped she'd be willing to play instead of go the snob route, and he hadn't been disappointed at all.

After watching a magic act that had her oohing and ahhing with wonder, He said. "Hungry."

"Oh yes."

"Well, good, because the next show's about to begin. But first I need to get something from the car."

They hurried back out to the parking lot and John retrieved the picnic basket Jamie had prepared for them. Aubrie's eyes lit up, and right there, and then John decided he'd like to spend the rest of his life surprising her. Which was a scary thought, but he didn't want to spoil the night by analyzing the notion too closely. He steered her down a cobblestone path to the left of the main festivities. It led them into a small patch of maples and oaks and weeping cherry trees.

When they emerged into a clearing, Aubrie gasped. Smack-dab in the center of a large grass area was a picturesque lake. Other people had settled on the lawn but they had no trouble finding a fairly secluded spot under a huge maple. John opened the basket and pulled out a plaid blanket he'd laid on top. He draped it over the ground and they settled down.

"Ready for some sustenance?"

"That depends. Did Jamie prepare this, or did you?"

"You're a real card. And I'll have you know, I can cook. I've been a bachelor for a long, long time."

She went still. "I thought you said you'd never been married."

He shook his head. "Not even once."

She gnawed on her lower lip, then asked. "Ever come close to tying the knot?"

John busied himself sorting through the basket. Finally, when he felt her eyes on his and realized she expected an answer, he said. "Sort of close, yeah. Many years ago."

"What happened?"

He touched his fingers to her cheek. "You know, I'm having a great time tonight."

She nodded. "I understand. You don't want me to spoil it by asking about things that are none of my business."

"I didn't say or mean that. I meant I don't want to spoil it for either of us by bringing up a subject that tends to sour a mood."

"Gotcha. I'm sorry I asked."

"Don't be. Really. I'm not hiding anything. In fact, you make me want to tell you all about the past. But just not tonight."

She smiled and nodded again. "So did Jamie make the picnic?"

"Yes. But I could have if I'd had time!"

Aubrie patted his leg. "Of course you could."

He growled at her, but then turned his attention back to unpacking their dinner.

"It smells delicious." She said, leaning over the basket to get a peek. That brought their lips in dangerously close proximity. John was nothing if not an opportunist, and he leaned an inch closer and kissed her, marveling at the softness he found there.

She pulled back far too soon, but he assumed she felt shy about too much PDA, especially after being embarrassed by the crowd at the Ferris wheel. He was no exhibitionist, but it didn't bother him in the least to be seen kissing her. Who wouldn't envy him? "I'd rather be kissing you than eating."

"Tough. I'm hungry and this smells delicious."

He noticed a folded note and grunted. "Jamie says I'm supposed to ask you if you're allergic to any foods."

"Nope."

"Do you like artichokes, caviar, cheese, fruit?"

"Yes, yes, yes, and yes."

Aubrie savored all the offering, licking her fingers clean and moaning in pleasure with each new taste. Her unconsciously erotic actions drove John crazy with desire and he longed to make her moan like that with another type of pleasure. By the time she patted her tummy and said. "I couldn't eat another bite." Mark was aroused almost to the point of pain. He opened his mouth to suggest they leave instantly when the scheduled fireworks display began across the lake. Aubrie sat up in delight, softly clapping her hands together in excitement. He groaned inwardly and gritted his teeth, hoping the show was a really, really short one.

Strangely enough, John was content to hold Aubrie during the fireworks, letting her use his shoulder to pillow her head. The most kissing that went on under the tree was when he nuzzled her temple occasionally, just to feel her skin and inhale her shampoo.

The fireworks were spectacular, and the company was spectacular, and he hadn't felt this good in a long time. They strolled to the car in silence. He did not want the night to end, but he cared about her feelings too much insult her by making any assumptions "Do you want me to take you home?"

"Do you want to take me home? I'm sure I look like hell."

"You're beautiful. And I have an alternative. But you have every right to say no."

"What is it?"

"I arranged to borrow a small hunting lodge about ten miles from here from a friend of mine." He pulled her head close just in case she looked at him in disgust or outrage. "Only if you'd like to." He said. "I will not be upset if you'd just like to end the date now. My intent wasn't to get you in bed, Aubrie. It would be my wish, but it wasn't my intent. My only aim for the night was to finally spend some times alone with you."

"Were you disappointed?"

"Would I be asking you to spend the night with me if I were disappointed? This was the nicest date of my life. That's the truth, I promise you."

"Nice sounds boring."

"Nice isn't boring. Nice means no awkward moments. Nice means laughing and playing and eating and holding you. Nice means spending time with you has no hidden agenda. I could take you home right now and still smile about this night for years."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, but she didn't appear distressed. And he noticed that she was a pretty crier. Some women just didn't cry well. Right now, he could stare into those watery blue eyes for weeks. Or months. Or years.

"I've always wanted to stay at a hunting lodge." She whispered.

"I was hoping you'd say that. It still isn't a demand for anything but a good night's sleep."

"Are you kidding? Gramps didn't make me carry a new toothbrush in my purse for nothing."

John laughed and leaned down to the abandoned picnic basket at their feet. He pulled out the final unused item inside—a toothbrush.

Her laughter was soggy. "Jamie?"

"Jamie." He sighed. "Speaking of which, I have to call her to let her know I won't be coming home."

Aubrie chuckled softly. "And I need to call Gramps."

Their eyes met and in perfect unison they said. "Porch lights."

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	27. Chapter 27

Warning: Extreme Sexual Content in this chapter.

* * *

><p>Mike didn't know why he followed through on an impulse to call Nicole. After all, it was a Friday night. There was no way that a beautiful woman like her would be sitting home, twiddling her thumbs. She probably had a dozen men jockeying for any scrap of time she'd honor them with.<p>

So when he found her number and picked up the phone, he was already prepared to find her out, or to have her in, maybe, with plans. But if he didn't try, he'd sit here all night wondering—

"Hello?" She said in that soft, husky voice that could turn positively wintry when she was angry.

"Nicole? It's Mike Mizanin."

"Hello, Mike." She said, and although her voice dropped a couple of degrees in temperature, it also wasn't cold as ice either.

"Have I interrupted anything?"

"A Bogie movie and a glass of wine. Why?"

"With company?"

"Yes, my parrot, Gabby."

He was nervous as a school kid asking out his first crush, which was weird, because even as a school kid asking out his first crush he hadn't been all that nervous. "I was wondering if you'd be able to meet me somewhere for a drink."

"Is something wrong?"

Yes, lately, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. "No, not wrong, exactly. It's just that you and I couldn't seem to coordinate schedules this week, and I really wanted to get together and talk about what you and Cena have planned from your end of this investigation."

There was a long pause, and Mike ran a hand around his collar.

Finally she said. "I'll share our plan of attack if you'll share yours."

He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he blew it out in a gust. "Great. So can we meet?"

"Why on a Friday?"

"Because I'd like the weekend to digest the plan of action so that when I see John Monday morning I'll have a better grasp on the situation." That was such a load of bull he almost felt guilty. But not quite. Having common ground and possibly a common problem and enemy was as good a place to start as any. "But if you're busy…."

"I've seen this movie at least a dozen times, and I've been craving a margarita all night, but all I have in my place is wine."

He was pretty sure that was a yes. "So, tonight?"

"I'm in my nightgown, so you'll need to give me an hour or so. Where would you like to meet?"

Now there was an image he wouldn't be able to wipe out of his mind anytime soon. "Well, we have two choices. We could go to some noisy bar, or I could run to the store or pick up the fixing for margaritas and come to your place. That is, if you don't mind giving me your address."

Again she hesitated. "I'd actually prefer not to go to a noisy bar."

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll just stop over there."

"Still give me an hour, okay?"

He wanted to say, don't get dressed on my account, but he had the feeling she wouldn't appreciate it much. In fact, she might flip the dead bolt and refuse to open up for him. "An hour it is."

"Great. Have a pencil? I'll give you my address."

The hunting lodge was much larger than Aubrie had expected. For some reason she'd had the impression that many of them were no more than tiny shacks, big enough to roll out a sleeping bag.

This one was first-class rustic. And no dead animal heads on the wall, either. The front door opened into a great room that functioned both as a lounging area and a dining room, with a scratched wooden table long enough to seat at least twenty people on matching wooden benches.

A huge maroon leather couch divided the room in two, sectioning off the living room area. It faced a big brick fireplace and was flanked by two black leather chairs with ottomans. Instead of a bearskin rug lying in front of the fireplace, there was a slightly threadbare Persian rug in maroon and black and heather green.

The place smelled of pine oil, and Aubrie couldn't find a speck a dust anywhere.

"This is really nice." Aubrie said. "Who owns it?"

"My installation manager." John said.

"Does he actually hunt?"

"No, he uses it mainly for poker-party weekends."

John nodded at wooden stairs at the far side of the room. "Those lead to a loft that has about eight or ten bunks beds." He pointed to a dark hallway. "That leads to the bathroom and the master bedroom. And the door behind the table leads to a pretty large kitchen."

"One bathroom for twenty inebriated poker players?"

He laughed. "Leave it to a woman to be practical. No, there's one bathroom in the master bedroom and another one upstairs."

"Before anything." He added, taking her purse from her shoulder and hanging it on a coat rack by the door, 'This." He took her in his arms and kissed her mindless. Wrapping his arms around her, he laid on hand on the small of her back and the other brushed up and down between her shoulder blades. Aubrie pulled her arms out from under his and raised them up and around his neck. His body heat beckoned her, and she pressed herself against him.

John groaned into her mouth, and the sound traveled straight down to her belly. His tongue touched her lower lip, then slipped inside.

In a fog she marveled once again at the sensuality he brought to the mere act of kissing. Without his caressing a single intimate part of her, she felt that he was making love to her.

Finally he pulled away and they stared at each other, their harsh breaths mingling.

Then he bent again and nuzzled her neck. "You smell so good." He said, then nipped her earlobe and a shiver raced straight down her spine.

"Oh." She moaned. "I never knew kissing could be like this." Her hands slid down to his shoulders, then his arms. "And I love your body. It feels so hard and hot and big, and I can't wait to see you naked."

He chuckled into her neck, but it sounded a little painful. "Aubrie, I never meant to bring you in here and drag you straight to bed. I was going to build a fire and open some wine and just talk for a while. I didn't want to rush you."

"Drag me. Rush me."

He straightened and looked down at her. "You're sure?"

"Or I can drag you and rush you." Aubrie whispered her blue eyes dazed and filled with need.

That was all he needed to hear. "Let's take turns." He said and bent, cradled the back of her knees and lifted her up into his arms. "Me first."

He carried her down the hallway and kicked open the door. Turning on the light, he walked her over to the bed and laid her down.

Opening the bedside table he took out a pack of matches then walked around the room lighting the dozen or so candles kept there. Then he flicked off the overhead light. The room softened to a soft yellow glow.

He smiled as he dropped the matches back into the drawer. There were a dozen or so condoms sitting in there too, but he'd get to them when he needed them. He was in no hurry.

When he began to lie down beside her, Aubrie said, "Wait."

"What?" He asked, thinking he was going to keel over dead from need if she changed her mind now.

"Undress for me."

"Excuse me?"

"Undress."

"I thought I'd let you help me with that."

"Not this time. I want to watch you undress."

"You want me to do a striptease for you?"

"No. I just want you to take off your clothes the way you do when you're getting ready for a shower."

"Uh…"

"You're not shy, are you?" she asked, her voice teasing. She stacked some pillows and reclined back in a half-sitting position.

"No, but—"

"Please?"

John was at a loss. A woman had never asked him to do something like this before. Especially a woman who seemed so shy at times.

But he shrugged. "Okay, but I can't say that I undress sexy."

"Just seeing you baring a little skin is sexy."

He unbuckled and unzipped his jeans, then let them drop, kicking them away.

"Oh, boxers. I love boxers."

He grabbed his polo shirt and pulled it off.

"Oh, my God, you're a 'from the back' guy. I love when guys take their shirts off that way."

John was beginning to believe her assertion that she was a talker. He hoped she was right about being a moaner and screamer, too. His initial embarrassment was beginning to give way to intense arousal, and even in boxers he had the feeling it was fairly apparent.

"Your chest is breathtaking. It's perfect."

And now he was down to his boxers and so turned on that he probably tore them off a lot faster than he did when he was undressing for a shower.

"Oh, my God." She whispered. "You are so beautiful. I've never been with a man as gorgeous as you are."

Okay, her running commentary practically had him on the brink, so he had to kiss that mouth quiet for a while so he didn't do anything stupid, like tear off her clothes and thrust himself into her.

"Now undress me, John." She demanded, tossing one of the pillows aside and lying down, stretching like a cat.

"My pleasure." He murmured as he fell on top of her. He cupped her face and slanted his lips over hers. Unfortunately, being body-to-body, lips-to-lips, didn't have the "slow down" effect he'd been going for. The feel of her soft clothes abrading his skin was erotic in a way he'd have never thought possible. And her hands gliding over his arms and shoulders and back felt like a huge slice of heaven.

Her hands slipped down his waist and hips and skimmed over his butt, which instantly tightened with pleasure. And she moaned softly into his mouth. He wanted to devour her. His lips brushed over her cheeks, her forehead, then down to her neck, where he found her pulse point, beating feverishly.

And she'd forgotten to mention she was a whimperer, too. Her hands became more frantic on his flesh, and her nails dragged over him. He had the feeling he'd be a marked man by morning, in the best possible way.

John slid to her side and began fumbling with her blouse. As he worked the buttons free one by one, his lips followed the path of her exposed flesh. Pulling the shirt from her skirt, he finished with the buttons and spread the halves aside.

Her skin glowed in the candlelight, soft and irresistible. He touched her ribs, and then his fingertips traced the lace of her pale green bra. Air whooshed out of her lips. She sat up and shucked her shirt completely, tossing it somewhere. The woman had the sexiest collarbones he'd ever seen.

"Damn." He said, kissing them.

"Oh, John, that feels good."

Her bra had a front clasp, and he snapped it open, then brushed both sides away to expose her breasts. And he just about came right then and there. "Good God."

"Touch them, kiss them." She commanded.

And he did, suckling one nipple with his lips while kneading her entire other breast with his hand.

She arched up with a long, low moan. "Oh, John, that's good." And her hand came up to touch his nipples as well. Bolts of excitement traveled straight from his chest to his groin.

He went from one breast to the other, wetting them, blowing on them, then nipping them, and her cries became shorter and sharper. "I need more."

He sat up and worked on her skirt, feeling around until he found the side zipper; then he pulled it down her legs. Pushing her legs apart slightly, he knelt between them and bent to kiss her flat belly, then moved lower and kissed her sweet spot over her silk panties.

Aubrie cried out and latched onto his head. "Oh, oh, please."

"Patience, baby." He murmured.

"No. I…don't have any left. Please John."

There was no way he could ignore this woman's cry for help. He maneuvered her panties down her legs. "I just want to taste you."

"Yes, taste me." She rasped. "Then I want to taste you."

He wouldn't survive it. His body was throbbing, a primal need to plant himself inside her that was almost too intense to ignore. But he bit his lip and touched her, finding her wet and so ready. Thrusting a finger inside her, he leaned down and licked her. She writhed and gasped and spoke words he couldn't understand, and the moment he felt her pulse around his finger, she screamed.

John didn't stop until he felt her walls stop squeezing his finger. Then he moved up her body to her mouth and kissed her parted lips.

She answered him with a fervor that stunned him, but then pushed at his chest. "I want you now. I want you to feel that. I want to make you explode like you made me. But first let me taste you."

"Aubrie, I am so close, I'm afraid I won't survive."

She laughed but her eyes were drowsy in a way that said her body was happy. Which made him so ecstatic and full of emotion for this woman who loved how he cherished her.

"Lie down." She whispered "I'll be gentle."

He couldn't deny her anything at this moment, so he gritted his teeth and rolled to his back. Her hands stroked over him as she talked and kissed her entire way from his chin to his manhood, and when her wrapped around him and her lips covered him, he jerked and groaned his pleasure. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed to hold off so when he exploded, it would be inside her.

Finally he grabbed her arms and pulled her up his body. "I have to, Aubrie. Now."

"Oh yes please do."

He pushed her to her back, then twisted to the drawer and grabbed a condom, ripping ferociously at the wrapping. Rolling it on, he turned back and spread her legs wide, fingering her wetness for some moments until she began whimpering again.

Then he positioned himself between her thighs and looked at her. "I want this so much. I've wanted you from the moment I saw you, Aubrie."

"Yes."

And he entered her, trying to be gentle until she got used to him. But she grabbed his butt and started chanting, "Harder, Harder, Harder."

Nothing, nothing on earth could feel this good. The pressure built in his groin until there was no way to stop the explosion. "I'm coming." He whispered. "Come with me, baby."

And she grabbed his back and arched up into him, pushing him deep inside her. John felt the fireworks going off all over his body, and nearly passed out from the pleasure. As he groaned and rasped, "Oh, Aubrie," she screamed again.

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	28. Chapter 28

Mike arrived at Nicole's gated community in McLean five minutes later, thanks to the ineptitude of a store clerk who hadn't yet mastered the codes for produce. The guard checked his name against the guest list, then opened the iron gate and directed him to the visitor parking. He reached her seventh-floor condo and rang the bell. Nicole opened up with a smile.

Unfortunately, she was not in a nightgown, but instead in low-riding jeans and a red cotton top that barely reached her belt. Her hair was held back in a casual ponytail, and she'd obviously not bothered to reapply makeup. She looked exquisite.

He'd never seen her in casual clothes before, and, not surprisingly, she more than did them justice. He'd also never seen her without lipstick, and her bare lips were just as beautiful as when she had them painted. She never wore much makeup, and he now knew it was because she didn't really need it. But he still would have loved to see that nightgown.

She glanced at the paper bag in his hands and said, "Whoa! What have you got in there? I was expecting tequila and mix."

"My grandfather considers himself something of a gourmet. He'd whip my butt if I ever considered making drinks with a mix. I hope you have a blender."

"Sure. Come on in."

Her small foyer was long and narrow, and led to a living room that was tastefully decorated in blues and creams, with dark mahogany furniture. She turned to him and said. "Home sweet home."

"It's great." He said. And he wasn't just talking about the décor; he was also commenting on how she filled out a pair of jeans. He didn't think he'd ever been jealous of a piece of clothing before.

"Anyway, the kitchen is back down the hall to the right."

He stepped aside and followed her into her kitchen. It was fairly large, and he set the bag on a small, round oak table. "Thanks for meeting on such short notice." He felt a need to keep using words that didn't give her the impression he considered it an actual date, because he didn't want her calling security and having him tossed out.

"No problem. Like I said, I had nothing better to do." She leaned down to a bottom cabinet, showing off a blender. After setting it on the counter she turned to gaze at him. "Anything else you need?"

He'd have liked to say, yes, everything you keep on the bottom shelves. Instead he said. "Not a thing."

"Can I help?"

"Yes, keep me company."

"Okay. This should be fun to watch." She sat down at her kitchen table and crossed her legs.

Mike turned away and began unpacking the sack, so she didn't see reflected in his eyes the flare of lust that burned through his veins. "Frozen or over ice?" He asked.

"Over ice."

"Regular or strawberry?" He held up a carton of the fresh fruit.

"Regular. We can eat the strawberries with cream."

Okay, visions of sugarplums were dancing through his head. He was surprised by his strong physical attraction to her. He'd always considered her beautiful, but their rivalry and his suspicions of her company's actions had made it impossible for him so feel anything but appreciation for the package and contempt for the inner workings. Somehow the contempt had dissipated with her passionate defense of her innocence. He hoped he wasn't letting his judgment go south, so to speak.

"Salt, no salt?" he asked.

"I'd love salt. But I probably shouldn't."

He began dumping the ingredients in the blender. He'd had Gramps go on the internet to find a good recipe and print it out. And while he'd dressed after his rushed shower and shave, he'd made Gramps recite the ingredients and directions over and over again so he wouldn't look dumb reading instructions to fix the drink for Nicole.

"So, want to hear the game plan John came up with?" Nicole asked.

"Yes."

"He decided on a three-pronged attack. He's putting one man in our lab where Michael works. He's putting one man in as a new maintenance guy so that the man can look around at night when the lab is empty and he has a man who's going to be following Michael to see if he has any meeting with his nephew, Alex."

"Sounds like a plan. But shouldn't he also be trying to get hold of Michael's financial records to see if he's been making payments for information or receiving money from some source for obtaining the information for Apple Day?"

"He mentioned that. And he said he has sources in law enforcement who could obtain that information, but until we discover anything suspicious that would give his friends cause, it would be walking a fine line. If Michael—or any of my employees—turns out to be guilty, I want the charges to stick, and not get tossed out because of technicalities."

"Well, John should know the best way to build an airtight case."

"Okay, how about your strategy?"

"We've already spent a ton of money on internal surveillance, and Alex is now what John is calling 'a person of interest' so the guards have been briefed about keeping a close eye on him in the lab. But he's also added a man to tag the boy. Because as much as he and his uncle have plenty of contact at family functions and things, they could very well be smart enough never to exchange information at events like that. So he's got a guy who's going to be following him and keeping a log and picture gallery of everyone the boy has contact with."

He added the tequila, and the conversation came to a short halt while the blender did its thing. When he was finished, he turned. "Glasses and ice and we're good to go."

"Yea!" She said, with a smile that made his mouth go dry. She jumped up and went to an upper cabinet to retrieve a couple of stem goblets.

Mike revised his estimation. Upper cabinets were good, too, because reaching made her shirt ride up and reveal skin, and the cotton stretched over her full breasts. This was most definitely a man-friendly kitchen.

She filled the glasses with ice, then set them down on the counter. He poured, then handed her a margarita.

"Want to go sit out in the living room?" She asked.

"Whatever you want."

"Okay, living room. Just be forewarned: my parrot's called Gabby for a reason. And she's learned some interesting phrases."

They headed to the living room, and this time he noticed a big bird cage hanging from the ceiling by a chain. Gabby was beautiful—bigger than Mike realized parrots were. As soon as Mike walked toward her, the bird said. "You looking at me?"

Mike turned on his heel and said. "Nope."

"Stool pigeon!"

"Gabby, behave." Nicole said.

"No."

Mike had to laugh. "Cheeky thing, isn't she?"

"Unbelievable. I leave the TV on during the day so she can listen and not get bored. One night when I came from work, the first thing she said to me was, "'Yo quiero Taco Bell.'"

"No way."

"Scout's honor. She hasn't said it in a long time, though." Nicole sat down on a chair and folded one leg under the other. She gestured to the couch. "Get comfortable."

They sipped their drinks, and Nicole closed her eyes and murmured. "Mmmm. That's wonderful."

He felt inordinately proud. "I'm glad."

"So." She said. "Let me ask you this bluntly."

"Hit me."

She grinned. "There are times I've wanted to."

"I probably deserved it."

"And wanted to slug Michelle."

She's really not that bad. She's just very protective of the company."

"If we find a culprit, will Michelle pursue a lawsuit against Apple Day, even if it's proven he or she acted alone and without my company's knowledge or approval?"

"We talked to our lawyer about it. She says we could easily sue for some damages, and for a percentage of the profits you've made from the products your employee stole."

"Oh. Our lawyer said basically the same thing. I was hoping your lawyer was dumber than ours."

He laughed, but sobered quickly. "We're not pursuing it, Nicole. If it was an individual acting alone, we're not coming after Apple Day. In fact, we discussed our two corporations working together to make certain it never happens again."

She chewed her lower lip, so he added. "There's enough of a market for both of us to succeed. And may the companies give each other a run for their money. Honestly, we have no desire to put you out of business with a lawsuit."

"I can't believe Michelle agreed to this."

"Like I said, she's not as bad as you think. She'll give you a fair shot if you deserve a fair shot. She's not afraid of honest competition."

Nicole was silent for a long time, sipping her drink occasionally. "I'm sorry for all of the nasty thing I've ever said about her."

"She's not all that proud of the things she's said about you, either. That is, once she's completely convinced that the corporation didn't sanction the actions."

"I swear we did not. I swear it, Mike."

"I believe you."

She smiled. "You're a better man than me, Charlie Brown."

"Actually, I'm very glad you aren't a man at all."

She stared at him so long that he held up a hand. "I'm sorry. Please don't take that the wrong way."

"I'm not. Actually I'm kind of flattered."

"Want to be in on my meeting with John on Monday?"

She shook her head. "I can't. My schedule is full." After a second she said. "But if you like enchiladas, you can come over for supper Monday night and fill me in."

Mike couldn't believe it. She was inviting him over for supper? "Yes!" he said, a little too quickly. "I mean, I'd like that."

"And now would you like to share a little Casablanca and finish off these margaritas?"

"I couldn't think of anything better." Well, he could, but he didn't feel like getting slapped.

"Play it again, play it again!" Gabby squawked.


	29. Chapter 29

For the first time in his life, John had to cry "uncle" it was almost three in the morning before he and Aubrie emerged from the bedroom at the lodge, she wearing only his shirt and her panties and he had on only boxers and jeans.

He loved seeing her in his shirt, which swam on her and reached nearly to her knees. She just looked so darn cute. Her hair was a mess in the best possible way. Her lips and cheeks and chin worried him a little, though. They were definitely the worse for wear.

He built a fire while she sat on one of the chairs, her legs folded under her. For some reason he kept looking back at her, half-afraid she was a dream that would disappear if he even blinked.

When he got the fire going, he asked. "Some wine?"

"Mmm, I'd love a glass. Although right now I feel almost drunk already."

Once again not wanting her far away, he took her hand and led her to the kitchen. "Preference?"

"Red, please. Dry."

He chose a cabernet and opened it with a corkscrew he grabbed from the utensil drawer. Aubrie laughed softly and he turned to her with eyebrows raised. "What?"

"You know where everything is. My guess is you've attended a poker party or ten in your time."

"I've been here once or twice."

"Right."

"Okay, maybe a few more time than that." He conceded. "I felt it was my duty. I want to support my employees."

"I'm sure."

When he'd poured the wine they padded back out to the living room and sat down on the couch. He draped his arm around her shoulder and she laid her head on his, practically purring. They were silent for a long time, enjoying the warmth of the fire in the chilly morning air.

"Aubrie?" He said finally.

"Hmm?"

"I don't know about you, but what we just shared most definitely wasn't meaningless to me."

"No, it wasn't meaningless to me, either. I'm just not sure exactly what it meant."

"Meaning what?"

"I don't know."

"I don't either."

"Do we have to define it right now?"

"I guess not." But that didn't want quite sit well with him, and he didn't know why. It wasn't that he was ready to express undying love to this woman, but the thought of their being nothing more than a short, pleasurable fling sat like a sour lemon in his stomach.

Something incredible had happened in that bedroom. He might be too tired now to experience it again tonight but never? That was almost unthinkable.

"You're remarkable." He said quietly.

"You too." She said, then yawned.

The goblet wobbled in her hand and he took it from her and set it down. "Come here, pretty lady." He folded her in his arms and guided her head to his chest.

She threw her arms around his waist and they just sat there for he didn't know how long. He felt like there were important things to say, but he didn't know what they were. He probably should think about it before something came out of his mouth, leaving room for his foot.

With luck, they had plenty of days and nights ahead to straighten it all out. And to have more mind-blowing sex. But somehow calling it merely great sex cheapened it in a way Aubrie didn't deserve. She'd given all of herself tonight, had trusted him with her body. It was more profound than great sex.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"Who was your first?"

He stared down at the top of her head. Her blond hair shimmered in the firelight. "My first what?"

She chuckled into his chest. "You don't play a good dimwit, either."

That's what he was afraid of. "The first girl I made love to?"

"Yes."

"Why would you want to know that?" He asked, a little uncomfortable with the honest answer.

"I'm just curious. Who was she?"

"Her name was Rachel Gellar."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen."

"Was she your first girlfriend?"

"No."

"High school sweetheart?"

"Not exactly."

"What was she, exactly?"

"Umm, well, she was a teacher."

She shot up straight." You're kidding me! You made love to one of your teachers."

"Well, sort of."

"You mean she wasn't your teacher?"

"Yes, sort of."

She shot him an exasperated look. "Spit it out."

"She was my driver's ed teacher."

Her mouth dropped open, but after a moment she burst out laughing. "Let me guess. You did it in the car." John pressed his lips together. "You did!"

"Yes, but it's not what you're thinking."

"You have no idea what I'm thinking."

"First, she was only twenty-three. It wasn't like an older woman situation."

"Well that's good." She said dryly. "We wouldn't want you to be seduced by a really old person. So what happened?"

"We were on a drive and she told me to take a left at this fork in the road, and we ended up at…before I go on, I had no idea this place existed."

"Oh, please, tell me more."

"Well, it was this bluff above a small lake."

"Very secluded, right?"

"During the day yes, I'd been told it gets a lot more activity at night."

"And this place was called what?"

"You don't want to know."

"Oh you betcha I do."

He felt a tick in his jaw and he looked away from her prying eyes. "Makeout Mountain."

There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by peals of laughter. When he finally forced himself to look at her, she was doubled over. "Oh, God, that's…that's unbelievable."

"I told you you wouldn't want to hear it."

"Oh, no, that's priceless, really." She sat up straight. "So your driver's ed instructor took you for a ride, did she?"

He was totally embarrassed, yet he couldn't help but chuckle. "You could say that."

"She seduced you."

"You could say that."

"Were you surprised, or did you pretty much know she wanted to hop your bones?"

John stared at pretty, demure little Aubrie, not realizing she even had bawdiness in her. But then he just shook his head. He'd gone this far. "I had no idea until…well, until…"

"Until what?"

"You sure are a nosy little thing."

"I know. Until what?"

"Until….."—he searched for a delicate way to put it—"she invited me to check out the upholstery in the backseat."

"I take it you didn't object too strenuously."

"To tell you the truth, it wasn't' that I was naïve, I wasn't. But I certainly wasn't' expecting it."

"Was it fun?"

"It was awkward and uncomfortable."

"And fun."

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, it was fun. It was my first time. I was thrilled at the chance. But trust me, it wasn't exactly magical."

Aubrie shook her head. "These days she could be thrown in jail for that."

"I didn't tell anybody!"

"Please. Boys brag. It's in their genes."

"I swear to God. Aubrie, you are the first person I've ever told about that."

Her eyes went wide. "No way."

"It's the truth."

After another moment of shocked silence, she laid her head back on his chest, and he felt her smile against his skin. "That's so sweet."

He had no idea what was sweet about it. To him it was embarrassing. "I've improved since then."

"Oh, yes, you certainly have."

"Your turn."

"What?"

"Your turn. What was your first time?"

She didn't hesitate. "Nothing even close to as exciting."

"Everything about you is exciting. When was it? High School?"

She found that uproariously funny. "With Mike as a brother? I never even had a date in high school."

"Not even for the prom?"

"Mike offered to take me."

"Ouch."

"I declined."

"I can't believe the boys weren't running after you."

"Oh, please. I bet there isn't a boy from my high school who'd remember who I am."

He found that hard to believe. "So who was he?"

"A guy I met in college."

"Did you love him?"

"Love him? I didn't even date him."

"Excuse me?"

She looked up at him. "This is going to sound so bad."

"No, it won't. Tell me."

"He was my study buddy."

"For what class? Biology?"

"Close. Sex ed."

"No way."

"Yes. We met every Thursday night to study because we always had quizzes on Fridays. The night before finals we were laughing about some position, because we couldn't believe it was possible."

"So you….what? Decided to do some hands-on-research?"

"Umm, yes."

"Did you….find out what you wanted to know?"

"Well, I learned a lot that night, to say the least. So did he. It was his first time, too."

"But you didn't fall in love with him?"

"No. And he didn't fall in love with me. We were experimenting, John. We were curious and we were studying this stuff together."

"I can't believe he didn't fall head over heels."

"Trust me, he didn't. But I'll always think of him very fondly. We weren't any good at what we were doing, but he was really sweet. And that's when I learned that I really like sex."

"You sure do."

She punched his shoulder. "I am so grateful to him for being my first. It meant the world to me."

"But you didn't love him!"

"No, I didn't. That's why I was glad. I really liked him, but there was no scary pressure to try to live up to a guy I was ga-ga over. You know?"

"I'm working on it."

Aubrie sighed. "I don't know how to explain it, other than I respected him and he respected me. That meant a lot to me. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. We were young, curious kids."

"I wish I'd been him."

She stared up at him. "Why?"

"I just would have loved to be young and curious with you."

"You'd have thought I was a total dork and idiot."

No, he'd have thought he got the chance to touch Aubrie for the first time. It was a weird feeling. He shied away from virgins at every opportunity. Although come to think of it, he'd been attracted to her even before she'd admitted she was no virgin. "I would have felt honored. He should have felt honored."

"He didn't use me and go away, John. We've been great friends ever since. I was at his wedding. He's happily married to the nicest woman in the world. And I couldn't be happier for him. I love him for what happened. I couldn't have picked a more caring, wonderful guy. But I would never have loved him the way I'd need to love a man to marry him or anything."

"What do you need to love a man…that way?" He asked because even speaking the word "marry" gave him hives now.

"If I knew, I'd either be married or be depressed I couldn't find him."

John was a little irritated that she hadn't pointed right at him and said. "You." Why, he didn't know. Ego, maybe. "Are you depressed you haven't found him?"

"Not yet. It's not number one on my priority list."

"What is?"

She grinned. "Maybe becoming a driver's ed instructor?"

"I need lessons." He said, as fast as he could.

"I've seen you drive. Yes, you do."

He wanted to grab her and drag her back to bed but his body said no way. "I'll sign up for lessons the moment I can raise my arms again."

She smiled and patted his chest in a "you poor thing" kind of way.

"What was this guy's name?" He asked, realizing there was a little jealously involved here.

"Chris."

"The guy was a fool if he didn't hold on to you. He should have been head over heels."

She laughed. "You've been with me. You're not head over heels."

John wasn't so sure. But he wasn't so sure about anything anymore. Which really made him uncomfortable. "Well, I guess there's something to be said for education after all." He said, because he didn't know what else to say. "Thanks for telling me."

"And thank you. I'll never look at a driver's ed car the same way again."

They sat that way for a long time, with only the crackling of the fire sounding in the night. After a while he heard her breathing deepen, and knew she'd fallen asleep. He'd feel guilty for exhausting her so much tonight if it hadn't been Aubrie who'd kept coming back for more. He shifted forward slowly so as not to jar her, he set down his wine beside hers, and then picked her up and carried her back to the bed and tucked her in. She immediately turned on her side and then went still.

John returned to the living room to bank the fire, then headed back and slipped into bed beside her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he felt a contentment he hadn't remembered in a long time. His last though before succumbing to sleep was that even in slumber, he liked her beside him.

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	30. Chapter 30

Aubrie awoke the next day filled with a powerful feeling of abandonment. She turned over and sure enough she was the only one in the bed. Had she only dreamed those strong, protective arms holding her all through the night? Had John decided to sleep on the sofa? But then the delicious aroma of coffee reached her, and she heard noises coming from another part of the lodge. She stretched, then winced as she began taking stock of every muscle she possessed, because every one of them was screaming that she'd sorely abused them. She didn't mind the ache because it was a delicious reminder that what had happened last night hadn't been a hallucination.

Shivering as she left the body-warmed sheets of the bed and felt the chill of the floor and the air, she headed down the hall. Spying her purse, she sighed with relief and silently blessed Gramps for the sage advice of bringing along a toothbrush. She hoped there was toothpaste in the bathroom.

She was digging around in her bag when she heard, "Good morning."

She whirled around, mortified she hadn't combed her hair or washed her face before John got his first glimpse of her. She wasn't exactly a raving beauty anytime but mornings she was definitely at her worst.

Clutching her toothbrush, she ducked her head. "Hi."

"Coffee's brewing." He said.

"It smells wonderful. But let me go freshen up first, please."

"Sure."

She practically sprinted to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. It was worse than she thought, and she groaned. "Whoa, Nellie."

Brushing her hair, teeth and splashing water on her face didn't improve her much, but she felt slightly more human.

When she returned to the bedroom, the first things she spotted were the number of open condom packages on the bedside table. She was surprised they both weren't dead. It wouldn't do to leave the sheets on the bed before making it, so she began stripping it. When she pulled off the pillowcase that John had used, she brought it to her nose and inhaled the faint scent of sandalwood and man that she savored every time she got close to him. She'd never forget his scent as long as she lived.

"What are you doing?"

She froze, and then turned to the door slowly, lowering the pillowcase. "Stripping the bed."

He was still bare chested, seeing that she was still wearing his shirt. "You don't need to do that. Adam has a service that comes in every Monday to clean."

"I feel guilty leaving a mess."

"Honey, compared to Mondays after poker weekends, the service will probably think no one was here all weekend."

She dropped the pillowcase and scooped up the pile of condom wrappers on the table. "Not if they see these."

He chuckled. "Want some coffee?"

"Oh, yes." She looked down at herself. "Just let me get dressed and you can have your shirt back."

"Do you want to shower before we go?"

"Oh, I'd love that."

"Me, too. Let's have a cup of coffee first, and then grab a shower."

"Okay." She squeaked. He turned and left the room, Aubrie staring at him. Was it her imagination, or had he implied that they were going to conserve water? She sure hoped so.

Aubrie wasn't sure how much water they'd conserved, since they were in the shower for a very long time. John was sweet and gentle as he soaped her all over, which was a good thing, because her body felt like it had been through a train wreck.

The ride home was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. John looked over at her often and smiled, and every once in a while he took her hand or rubbed strands of her hair before returning his attention to the road. It was close to a half an hour before they spoke.

"Thank you for last night." He said. Then he added. "All of it."

"I had a wonderful time." She answered him.

"Will you go out with me again, Aubrie?"

"On one condition." She said.

"What's that?"

"That you aren't asking because you feel…I don't know….chivalrous."

He chuckled. "I don't have a chivalrous bone in my body."

"Yes, you do. And if I ever discovered you were asking me out because you felt obligated after last night, I'd be mortified."

He was quiet for a moment. "Aubrie, yeah, I'm asking you out again because of last night. Because I had a fantastic time, and I'd like to have more just like it. I'll even allow you to beat me at Putt-Putt again."

"Oh, please, I could take you blindfolded."

"I was being chivalrous."

"Right."

He smiled as he made a quick check of the rearview mirror. "I want another date because I want another date. It's as simple as that. And if you're worried it's all about the mind-blowing lovemaking, I'll be happy to prove to you it's not by being pure as the driven snow for as long as you'd like."

"Why would I want that?" She could hear the horror in her own voice at the thought.

"I don't know. I don't really profess to have a complete grasp of the female mind."

"Well, that's not it at all. In fact, if you wanted to go out just for the sex, I could understand that. I just don't want to be a pity date."

"You are so far from a pity date, you're in two different universes."

Her heart smiled. "In that case, I'd love to."

"How about tonight?"

"Well, Gramps is planning a special supper, but…wait, I've got an idea!"

"What's that?"

"Why don't you and Jamie come over for supper tonight?"

"I'd hate to impose on such short notice."

"Oh, Gramps won't mind. And I'd love for him and Jamie to meet. If nothing else they can fight over cooking techniques and recipes."

"I'll ask Jamie. If she doesn't have any other plans or obligations, I'm sure she'll be thrilled to come."

"Great. I know they'll love talking."

He grinned. "Speaking of talking…."

Aubrie ducked her head. "I warned you."

"That you did. And you came through like a champ."

"Was it irritating?"

"Hell, no! Talk to me, moan to me, scream to me anytime you want, lady. It's sexy as all hell."

Aubrie opened her mouth, but just then John's cell phone buzzed. He reached into his chest pocket and flipped his phone open, an irritated look on his face. "Leave it to someone to break in on a very fun conversation."

After punching a button he said. "Yeah?"

He listened, and then glanced over at her. "Yeah, Mike, what is it?" He listened some more, and his expression grew grim. "We're about ten minutes from the Beltway. We can be there in about fifteen, depending on traffic." Then he looked at her again. "Hold on. Aubrie, do you want me to drop you at my house first so you can pick up your car?"

"What's going on?"

"Emergency meeting in your brother's office."

"About the thief?"

"Yes."

"Heck no, I want to be there."

He put the phone back to his lips. "About fifteen." Then he flicked the phone shut.

"Do you know what it's all about?"

"Looks like one of my men has already turned up some incriminating information."

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	31. Chapter 31

It actually took them closer to twenty minutes to reach Mike's office due to an unusually high amount of traffic for a Saturday. When they arrived, Mike was sitting at his desk, looking tense. Also standing or sitting around the room where Nicole, Randy and two men Aubrie didn't recognize.

Mike glanced up and nodded, then did a double take, raking his gaze over Aubrie's face, finding she didn't know what. Then his narrowed eyes moved directly to John.

Nicole must have followed the play of expression on his face, because she glanced over her shoulder at them. But instead of the dark look Mike had given them, she broke out in a wide grin.

John nodded at Nicole, but then peered closer at her, and it was his turn to look at Mike, eyebrows raised. Aubrie didn't understand what everyone was seeing that she wasn't but whatever it was, Mike had the grace to turn a little red in the face and drop his gaze.

Aubrie glanced at Nicole again, and noticed that Nicole's lips were a little swollen and her cheeks a little red. Understanding dawned. If Aubrie looked in a mirror right now, she'd be mortified, she was sure.

John introduced Aubrie to the two men. She smiled at them, but didn't actually catch their names because she was too busy trying to hide her face and ignore all the looks that were passing between everyone. An unspoken language was taking place, even between John and a smirking Randy, but she didn't want to interpret.

She had the feeling the next time she and Mike were alone, the words would be less than silent.

"So what's the deal?" John asked.

The taller of the two strangers stepped forward. "I installed the new digital copier in Lab B the first night. No unusual activity that night or Thursday. But last night the suspect stayed late, long after everyone else had cleared out.

"That's not unusual." Aubrie piped up. "Alex often stays late to clean up."

"Right. Well, last night he stayed late to clean out."

"I'm sorry?"

"He stayed until six forty-two. Between six o'clock and six twenty-four he copied an entire file."

Aubrie shook her head. "I don't get it. That's part of Alex's job. He's an intern."

"But." John chimed in. "He's only supposed to make copies of memos and other correspondence, like invoices, for filing. He's never supposed to copy formula notes. Those are classified to only certain individuals."

"Okay."

John turned to Aubrie. "The new copier archives all the work it does, so we can document what's being reproduced."

"Oh. So you can make duplicates of the documents he's been copying?"

"Exactly."

"Ain't technology grand?" Randy said.

"This is the file he copied." Mike said. The label was marked IP 1023-4.

What's it for?"

"A miracle antiaging face cream Rose Cosmetics chemists have been working on." Mike said with a grin.

"What's so funny?"

"I deliberately drew attention to it. I sent out a memo telling the staff that it was imperative we speed up the development of the cream. I implied in cryptic terms that it could be the biggest breakthrough Rose Cosmetics has had since we opened up for business, and the sooner we get it on the market, the better."

"He also made two copies of the memo." The tall man said.

The shorter man chimed in, looking at some notes. "He placed three calls during that time. The first number was traced to a Blank residence. Apparently his girlfriend. The second turned out to be a pizza joint at Tyson's Corner. The Riley boy works there part-time as well. The third was made to his own home."

Randy picked up the story. "The camera recorded him going into the men's room, where of course there is no surveillance. He brought the file folder back out with him and refilled it."

"So?"

"The old bait and switch." John said. "He takes the copies in with him, hides the contents on him somewhere, and then brings the file folder back out, empty. The next day or whatever, under the pretext of cleaning out file cabinets, he pulls the empty folder out and sticks it with the other unused office supplies."

"Oh." This spy business wasn't for sissies, she decided.

The shorter man picked up again. "We tailed Alex to the pizza place, where he began work. "This girl."—he tossed down a black-and-white photo—"came in about a half hour later. She and he disappeared in the back for a few minutes. She left about ten minutes later. My guess is they didn't just head back there to neck, but who knows?"

"Is this enough to constitute probable caused?" Mike asked John.

"On the kid, yes, but not on his uncle. We need to know that his uncle receives the information, and then does something with it." He turned to Nicole. "Do you have regular development meetings?"

"Every Tuesday morning."

"Until and unless we catch Michael receiving the papers, and/or he pitches a formula that closely assimilates the notes in that file, we don't have enough to charge him with fraud."

They talked about tweaking strategy in terms Aubrie didn't understand but she was impressed. John knew his stuff. She felt a huge burst of pride just watching him in his element.

The meeting broke up about fifteen minutes later. After Randy and John's two security men left Mike, John, Aubrie and Nicole chatted casually. Aubrie watched with intense interest as Mike and Nicole interacted. Their gazes toward each other were softer, their smiles much more frequent, and there was a decided lack of the biting undertones that usually accompanied their civil conversations.

She didn't know what, but something had happened. And it had to have a happened recently—like last night.

"Ready to go?" John asked her.

She held up one finger. "Nicole, what are you doing tonight? Do you have plans?"

"Um, no."

"Well, listen, my grandfather is making a special gourmet meal. John and his sister are coming. Why don't you join us?"

"Oh, I couldn't intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding." Mike said quickly. "Gramps loves to show off his cooking to anyone who will eat it."

"Yes, but I wouldn't want to caused any tension. With Michelle, you know."

"She won't be there." Mike and Aubrie said at once.

"She….has a standing Saturday-night date with her boyfriend." Aubrie elaborated. But guilt seeped in, because she was teetering dangerously close to lying about personal stuff, something she'd sworn she wouldn't do. And she was going to murder Mike later for it.

"Michelle has a boyfriend?" John and Nicole said in unison.

"Yes." Aubrie said still silently cursing her brother. "Really nice guy. Professional wrestler."

John and Nicole said, "Ohhh," and nodded, as if that explained a lot.

"Come." Mike said.

Nicole hesitated. "If you're sure your grandfather won't mind."

"He won't."

"Great." Aubrie said. "Around six for cocktails?"

"Sounds good."

Aubrie and John waved and left. As they turned the corner, Aubrie danced a little jig and punched a fist in the air. "Yes!"

"Don't congratulate your matchmaking skills too much, darlin'. My guess is they kind of did that all on their own."

"Who cares?" She said.

And, as they headed down in the elevator, John took her in his arms and kissed her silly.

"Aren't these elevators being monitored?" She asked when they came up for air.

"Who cares?"

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	32. Chapter 32

The Mizanin family home was teeming with controlled chaos. Delicious scents wafted from the kitchen, where Gramps and Jamie had disappeared minutes ago, arguing the relative merits of parsley versus cilantro.

Two additional table place settings were added when John called to say that Randy's wife, Leah, had driven up from Richmond, and could they join the crowd? Gramps was thrilled. He loved cooking for a captive audience, and he loved being in the company of young people, because Oprah had had a guest on once who spouted the theory that to stay young, you should surround yourself with the young.

Mike was playing bartender and everyone was sitting or milling around in the informal parlor. Leah, Nicole, and Aubrie had all converged in one corner to chat.

"Congratulations on the baby, Leah." Aubrie said, smiling.

Randy's wife was an auburn beauty, with a serene, ethereal air about her that seemed in stark contrast to Randy's barely leashed tension and energy. But whenever Randy looked around to check on his wife, which was often, his expression softened and his blue eyes sparked. "Thank you." Leah said.

"You're pregnant?" Nicole asked, staring at Leah's still flat tummy.

"Yes, our first."

"That's wonderful!"

Leah grinned. "We'd been trying for a while, but when it finally happened, Randy almost fainted. 'A baby?' he said, as if I'd just announced I was giving birth to a Martian."

"Men are such wimps when it comes right down to it." Nicole said.

Leah nodded sagely. "John and Randy could face down armed thugs without blinking an eye. Tell them they're about to learn to change diapers and they cower in fear."

Just then Randy looked over at Leah and beckoned for her to join him. Leah said. "Excuse me." And strolled toward her husband.

"They make a pretty striking couple." Nicole said.

"They sure do."

Nicole swirled her margarita around, took a sip, and then leaned closer to Aubrie. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"I've had a revelation."

"What's that?"

Nicole practically giggled. "I like boys."

Aubrie had a hard time keeping a straight face. "You've figured that out, have you?"

"Yes."

"Now would this be 'boys' plural or 'boy' singular?"

"Oh I'm pretty sure I like boys, plural. Maybe just some more than others."

Aubrie held up her wineglass. "This calls for a toast." They clinked glasses.

"And how about you?" Nicole asked. "I couldn't help but notice that your lips looked like they went seven rounds with a boxer today."

"I….don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"Right. And it can't be our handsome Mr. Cena, because I think he might be a little light in his loafers, if you get my drift."

Aubrie, unfortunately, had been sipping wine to cover the blush creeping up her cheeks. She practically sprayed a mouthful across the room.

Somehow she managed to choke it down, but then coughed while Nicole patted her back sympathetically.

"Excuse me?" Aubrie said.

"You heard me."

"Um, what makes you say that?'

"Don't tell me you didn't notice?"

"Notice what?"

"When John leaned over the desk to look at the surveillance photos, there was the distinct scent of Passion's Promise wafting from his shirt. Speaking of which, isn't that the perfume you wear?"

"Uh—"

"Maybe he's sneaking yours while you're not looking? Or maybe he's snitching bottles from Rose Cosmetics?"

"Very funny,"

"So, did we have fun?"

Aubrie pressed her lips together to keep a goofy grin off her face. She nodded rapidly. "How about you?"

"Not as much as you two, apparently, but I'm not complaining."

"I'm so glad for you! And for Mike. It's about damn time."

"Mike said the same about you."

"Really? Could have fooled me, the way he was glaring at John and me today."

"I think he was just issuing a silent warning to John that he'd better treat his little sister right."

"I could do the same for you with my big brother."

"Oh, don't worry. I've near met anyone like him. He's so open and honest and sweet."

Uh-oh. "And don't forget loyal. He'd do anything for the people he loves, even if he doesn't much like it."

Aubrie and Nicole made their way over to the makeshift bar, where Mike was wearing an apron over his clothes that read, Kiss the guy with the bottle in his hand.

Aubrie said. "I'm not volunteering. How about you, Nicole?"

"I think he'll have to settle for a tip."

Mike laughed as he refreshed their glasses. "What can I say? Wishful thinking."

Randy, Leah, and John came and joined them. "Aubrie, is it rude to ask for a tour of the house? It's beautiful." Randy said.

"Of course!"

The four of them started to walk toward the doorway, but Randy put a hand on John's chest, halting him. "This is a private tour. You're not invited."

Oh, boy. Aubrie smelled a setup. So did John, judging by his irritated scowl. Aubrie glanced at Leah, but the woman met her gaze with an expression of total innocence. Aubrie didn't believe it for a second.

"All right, pal but remember you have the right to remain silent. Use it." John said. He then pointed at Leah's nose. "You too."

"Me?" Leah put a hand to her chest. "I'm the soul of discretion.'

"Uh-huh." John grunted.

Aubrie sent one final pleading look at John, but he just shrugged. "He's the guy with the badge and the gun. I'm just a lowly citizen."

So, with slightly dragging feet, Aubrie led them first to the formal living room. "Oh, it's beautiful." Leah said. "Did you decorate it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know chintz from china. It was my grandmother."

They headed to Gramps's library. Randy pretended intense interest in the thousands of books. "Has your grandfather actually read all of these?" He asked.

"Many more than once. These are just his keepers. He's given five times this many to the local library."

"He seems like a really nice man."

"With the patience of a saint. He raised us himself since we were still little kids when my parents died."

"Raising three small children." Randy said. "I'm scared out of my mind by one."

Aubrie had to think for a moment how he came up with the number three. Then she remembered he was John's friend and John still thought Michelle existed. "A big, bad guy like you? Piece of cake."

"When I met him." Leah chimed in. "He didn't even know how to raise a dog."

And John's story came back to her. "That's right! I forgot what you all went through. I'm so sorry."

Randy came back to them and put his arm around his wife protectively. "It was pretty bad at the time. But I met Leah, so I can't exactly regret it."

"Too bad John still does."

Both Randy and Leah stared at her. Finally Leah blew what was probably a gasket for someone who was so soft-spoken. "That idiot. He can't still be carrying that load of garbage around with him."

"I'm afraid so."

"Don't believe him, Aubrie." Randy said. "It's just not true."

"He was a hero." Leah said.

"He still is." Randy said.

Aubrie's heart sung and stung at the same time. She wondered if John would ever get over the guilt."

"So, not meaning to be nosy, Aubrie." Randy said. "But John's my best friend, so I'm going to ask anyway."

"Okay."

"Where do you see your relationship going?"

"Well that was blunt." She looked to Leah for help in telling Randy to mind his own business but Leah seemed just as interested in the answer. "The truth is I don't know."

"You seem really nice, Aubrie." Leah confided. "And it's about time John got serious about someone, as far as I'm concerned. But we're worried because, just like with the guilt over the Wilson case, he has a hard time letting go of what he perceives to be past failures."

"Why do you think he hasn't dated anyone for longer than a few weeks since—"

Leah elbowed Randy in the ribs, and he let out an "Oomph."

"He's told me about that."

"He has?" Leah and Randy said at the same time, shock on their faces.

"Well, not the whole story. He alluded to a past serious relationship but when I asked what happened, he didn't want to talk it."

"That's John." Leah said with disgust.

"In his defense." Aubrie said. "We haven't known each other that long." She sipped her wine. "I don't suppose you'd like to fill me in."

"Well—"Randy started, which earned him another elbow to the ribs. "Ow!"

"Let John tell you in his own good time. That's the way it should be done."

"You're right, of course. However, I have no idea where my involvement with John is going, so I probably won't ever know." That was a depressing thought.

Randy snorted. "John has been my best friend since Quantico. Trust me on this one. He's hooked."

Leah nodded. "I haven't known him nearly as long. But I've watched how he's treated the parade of women in his life. He's never looked at them like he looks at you."

"Don't get my hopes up." Aubrie said with a sigh.

"Conversely, Aubrie, please don't get his up if you don't mean it. I'm not sure he'd survive another heartbreak."

Aubrie wanted to laugh hysterically. "Little chance of that. I've never gotten a man's hopes in my life and a heartbreaker I am not."

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	33. Chapter 33

Gramps had added an extra leaf to the formal dining table, so everyone would have plenty of room. The table already seated eight without a leaf, but Gramps had taken one look at the cumulative size of John, Randy and Mike and decided adding the leaf would be prudent.

He and Jamie sat at either end, as he deemed her honorary hostess of the dinner party, even if she sometimes used dried basil in her béarnaise sauce. Jamie retorted that Gramps wouldn't know a good tomato sauce if it bit him in the butt.

All through supper they traded barbs, and by the end of the meal they were practically best friends. It was a friendship built on a love of cooking and a strong desire to best the other in that department. They declared Wednesday evening cook-off nights and both were practically rubbing their hands with glee at the prospect. John and Aubrie smiled at each other across the table. They'd known the two would probably get along, but they hadn't dreamed it would be this fast and this stimulating for them.

After dessert and snifters of brandy, Randy and Leah said their good-byes first, Randy stating that Leah needed her mommy sleep. When Leah hugged Aubrie goodbye, she whispered softly. "Take care of him." Aubrie almost cried, because she was well aware that John didn't need anyone taking care of him.

Nicole left next, and Mike walked her out to her car. Aubrie and John and Gramps took positions at the front windows. "We really shouldn't be spying on them." Aubrie said.

"Sure, we should." Gramps said.

"You people are spying on them?" Jamie said indignantly.

"Yes." Gramps said.

"That's disgusting."

"Probably."

"So give me a blow-by-blow." Jamie said.

They were all disappointed when Mike was a perfect gentleman, just helping Nicole into her car. But before she drove off, she rolled down the window and he leaned in and laughed at something she said. Then he stepped away and waved and trotted back up the sidewalk to the front door. They all barely had time to find something to make them look busy and uninterested.

"Cut the innocent act." Mike said. "Your noses were fogging up the windows."

"You're a real disappointment, son." Gramps said, then turned away and began clearing the table, something he never let guests help him do.

Then it was down to John and Jamie. "We need to get going, too." John said.

"Gramps?" Jamie said.

Gramps put down his armload of dishes and walked over to her. "Night, Jamie. It was wonderful to meet you."

Jamie grinned. "The chicken and artichoke hearts weren't bad."

"Weren't bad?" he said, indignant. What Jamie couldn't see was that he was grinning from ear to ear. "I dare you to top that recipe."

"You're on. See you Wednesday."

Then Gramps took his load of dishes and headed into the kitchen.

Aubrie smiled at John and waggled her fingers at him. Night, she mouthed.

"Like hell." He said and grabbed her and kissed her.

"Oooh, cooties!" Jamie said.

"I won't be at Rose Cosmetics tomorrow." John told Aubrie. Not that she saw him that much even when he was there but for some reason it just felt good to know he was in the same building.

"I have a job beginning in Reston, and all of my men and women are in place at Rose Cosmetics, so there's no reason for me to be there."

"Oh. Well, my last day is Wednesday, anyway. Barrett already found a full-time replacement."

"Oh." Now he looked disappointed, even though he'd just said he would barely be around himself. "Well, I'll call you."

"Okay."

But after Jamie and John said their thank-yous and good-byes, after they'd gotten into his truck and driven away. Aubrie stood at the door, feeling somewhat bereft. She wasn't quite sure why.

John called Aubrie Sunday, but didn't ask to see her again. They talked in generalities, and he seemed distracted, so she didn't keep him on the phone for long. To take her mind off of troubling thoughts, she worked on updating her resume.

Monday, he was at another job site, so he didn't call her all day at work. She kept herself busy training the woman who'd be taking over her job. He did call Monday evening, but just to tell her that he had to fly to Richmond in the morning to meet with Randy and a corporate attorney to map out a plan for setting up the Richmond office.

That evening, while she watched Mike walked around the house whistling while getting ready for a date with Nicole, Aubrie made a decision: No pinning hopes on John Cena. It was a recipe for disaster.

Mike showed up at Nicole's, a bottle of wine in one hand, flowers in the other. When she opened up the door, he just about swallowed his tongue. She wore a sleeveless peasant dress and open-toed sandals, and her hair was long and loose. Once again, no makeup. Once again, she didn't need it.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Soft music played in the background, and the place smelled like heaven. They decided to save the wine for supper, so Nicole poured iced tea instead. She placed the flowers in a vase and set them on the coffee table; then they settled on the couch.

"Thank you so much for the roses. They're beautiful."

"I'm glad you like them." He said, loving the soft look in her eyes as she fussed to arrange the bouquet just so. "How was your day?" He asked her.

"A little tense. Tomorrow's going to be worse, facing Michael across the conference table, waiting to see if he proposes a breakthrough antiaging cream."

"Mark doesn't think he'll do it this soon. Michael will want to test it first and then he's going to want to change the composition enough so that he thinks Rose Cosmetics can't accuse him of theft. He'll claim something called simultaneous invention, when two people just happen to come up with the same idea at the same time."

"This is really stringing out my nerves, Mike. I just want it to be over."

He pulled her closer and draped his arm around her shoulders. "I know. I know very well." And he wasn't just talking about the corporate theft. "Let's forget about work tonight, okay?"

"Wonderful idea."

"So, you've met my family." He said. "Tell me about yours."

She smiled. "Typical middle-class."

"Are your parents still alive?"

"Oh, yes. They live in Saint Louis. My father's a phys ed teacher and the high school football coach. My mother teaches kindergarten."

"So, do you like football?"

"I love every sport known to people kind. In my family, it would blasphemy not to."

"How about those Skins?" he asked, grinning.

"Sorry, Rams fan."

"Brothers and sisters?"

"Two older sisters, one younger brother. Sarah is married with four kids and counting. She runs a daycare center from their house. Liz is an accountant and aspiring author. Jeff is just finishing law school. Maybe. He still sponges off my folks while he tries to find himself."

She sounded totally disgusted, which would make sense of a driven woman like Nicole.

"Wow, you're a diverse group."

"Our parents' house is a zoo during holidays." She said laughing.

He set his iced tea on a coaster. "Any boyfriends?"

"Not a one. I was a nerd in high school and college, and I've been too busy ever since. You?"

"Not a boyfriend in the bunch."

She laughed. "That's good to hear. How about the young ladies?"

"A few in college. None that took my breath away. After that…work."

"We're a sorry pair, aren't we?"

"Until now, I haven't really minded it."

She looked at him with those blue bedroom eyes. "And now?"

"And now I can't believe what I've been missing. Then again, I don't think I've let any great opportunities pass me by—yet." Mike paused, letting his gaze linger on her lips. "I've always thought you can't be who you are without having been where you've been."

She laughed. "Psych 101."

"Gramps 101."

Nicole brought her feet up onto the couch, smoothing her dress over her legs. "So tell me, what's the craziest, most outlandish thing you've ever done?"

Yikes. He didn't want to answer that one. Just a few more weeks, Nicole and I promise it will all be out. And we'll laugh about it, I hope. "Hmm, about the craziest thing I did was go skydiving." Sorry Gramps for lying.

"You rebel."

"Naked."

"Yeowch! Any lasting side effects?" She asked a wicked gleam in her eye.

Mike grinned. "A complete aversion to skydiving."

"How about being naked?"

"As long as it's not at twenty thousand feet, I'm okay with it. How about you? Craziest moment?"

"Don't get mad, okay?"

He frowned. "Why would I get mad?"

"Because you're so protective of your sister."

"Aubrie's sheltered. Someone needs to look after her."

"Not that sister."

"Oh."

"Anyway, it wasn't really a practical joke on her directly."

"Go on."

"Well, did Michelle ever tell you she saw Aubrie at supper—as Candi that night—and a date of Aubrie's?"

"I vaguely recall that. Seems to me she said the guy was a total dork."

"Hey, I'm not that bad!"

He stared at her. "You're William Shakespeare?"

She nodded a proud expression on her face. "That would have been me."

His first thought was to be irritated. Especially since Aubrie had never told him. His second thought was that he had no right to be angry. So he just said. "Well, you sure fooled Michelle. She thought Aubrie had lost her mind."

"We tried to stick to darkened corners of the restaurant."

"It must have worked. Michelle didn't see through it. Which really shocks me. I'd never mistake you for a man." Except I did. What an idiot. And Aubrie's hearing about this.

"It was the most fun I've ever had."

"Now no offense but Michelle thought Aubrie was up to something. She just didn't know what."

"You weren't there! How would you know?"

"Michelle described you."

"I'd make as good a man as you'd make a woman." She said, then leaned over and kissed him.

You have no idea, Mike thought.

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	34. Chapter 34

By Wednesday morning, Aubrie had decided her new motto was "Live and learn." It didn't make John's rejection hurt any less, but being philosophical made her feel as though she had some measure of control.

At least Mike was in heaven, and that meant the world to her. Her big brother deserved all the happiness he could get, after basically giving up his personal life to build a business that he'd hoped would secure his and his family's future. It was his turn to have some fun now.

Obviously it wasn't hers. Although when she'd talked to Mike last night, he'd gotten a little exasperated with her. "John's busy with a lot of things, Aubrie. You can't expect him to just drop everything for you."

And Mike had been right. Four days wasn't a long time not to see John, although it felt that way. But it was forever in terms of him not finding time to give her more than a two-minute phone call. And a distracted phone call at that. Then again, he'd asked if she'd like to go out again. He hadn't asked for a relationship.

Aubrie was confused and she'd have loved nothing better than to talk things over with Nicole but Nicole was busy trying to catch a spy and juggle a new relationship with Mike. It was only Aubrie who seemed aimless.

Well, that was going to change. She'd had a number of inquiries regarding jobs from both government agencies and the private sector alike. So far the two positions that held the most interest to her were with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation and the Perch Group, a political and market-research firm. The Perch Group was located in Los Angeles, and she'd miss her family horribly if she had to move that far way. On the other hand, Aubrie thought maybe it was time she started making her own way, and stopped depending on her brother and grandfather so much.

She was mulling all of this over sitting at the park across from the office. Although technically this was her last day, the woman taking over her position, a no-nonsense grandmother of five would have been ready to take the reins by yesterday afternoon. Aubrie just felt an obligation to be nearby if some last minute questions cropped up.

She sighed and stood up. She ought to at least be pretending to be working in the office. As she went to step in the street, however, her cell phone rang. She stepped back and pulled it out of her purse.

"Hello, pretty lady." She heard John's deep, rumbly voice say.

She tried to go for cool and aloof, but didn't quite have it in her. "Hello."

"I'm home."

"Welcome back."

"You sound thrilled."

"I'm happy you're home of course."

"Don't be doing any cartwheels."

She had to smile. "I would but I'm in a skirt and I don't' want to scare anyone."

"You can scare me like that anytime."

She didn't know what to say. Although her heart was racing, it was also scared.

"Hmmm, are you mad at me for some reason?" He asked.

"Not at all."

There was a long pause. "Well, okay. I guess I'd better let you go."

She wanted to scream, No! But all she said was, "I'm sure you have a lot to do."

"That's true. Well, I guess I'll talk to you later."

"That would be nice."

"Bye."

"Good-bye, John."

"Wait, wait, wait!"

"Yes?"

"That sounded like a kiss-off good-bye if I've ever heard one."

"It wasn't."

"I was hoping I'd get to see you tonight."

She almost sobbed. "I'd like that." She said, because she wanted nothing more in the world.

He took a noisy breath. "Good. Remember what tonight is?"

"No."

"Cook-off at the OK Corral."

"Oh, yeah! You want to come over and watch and be a judge?"

"Hell, no. I want you to come to my place because we'll have it all to ourselves."

"Would you like me to make us some supper?"

"How does delivery pizza sound?"

"Wonderful."

"I'm dropping Jamie off at six o'clock. Is that too early?"

"No."

"See you then?"

"Yes."

John stared at the phone after he'd disconnected. He had no idea with whom he'd just spoken. Aubrie's natural shyness couldn't account for her standoffish tone. After a moment he dialed Mike's private line.

"Mike Mizanin."

"Cena."

"Hello. Back in town?"

"Yes." John considered asking for an update on news at work but he could get that at the office and besides, at the moment he didn't care. "What's wrong with Aubrie?"

"What do you mean, what's wrong with Aubrie?"

"The woman I just talked to is an alien. I almost didn't' recognize her voice."

"Why don't' you ask her?"

"Because she said nothing's wrong."

"There you go."

"Bull. I haven't known her long but long enough. Something's wrong. Did something happen to her while I was gone?"

"Not that I know of."

"Did she meet another man?"

"John, it's been four days."

"Is she sick?"

"No."

"You're being very helpful."

"Again, you are asking the wrong person."

"But you know, don't you?" You're just not telling me."

"I have my suspicions."

"Just a hint. I'm begging here. I'm seeing her tonight and I don't want to screw it up."

"She's a woman."

"I had noticed that detail." John said dryly.

"If that isn't a clear enough reason, you've been going out with the wrong women."

"Well, thanks. You were a big help."

"Glad to be of assistance." And Mike hung up on him without saying good-bye.

All John wanted to do was kiss Aubrie senseless when she opened the door to Jamie and him. But Gramps was there, so it probably wasn't prudent. Then all he wanted to do was kiss Aubrie senseless once he got in the car with her. But Gramps was probably at the window, running commentary for Jamie, so he held himself in check.

And on the drive to his place all he wanted to do was shake her and force her to tell him what was eating her. But that could cause a car accident. So he settled for chitchat.

"Happy to be free from that job?" He asked.

"It wasn't so bad, if you don't mind not having to use your brain."

Strikeout number one.

"Anything exciting happen while I was gone?"

"The grass grew."

Strikeout number two.

"Any progress on the Mike and Nicole front?"

For the first time, he saw a genuine smile. "He's not saying. He doesn't kiss and tell. But if I were a betting woman, I'd put my money on a whole lot of kissing going on."

"Excellent. Good for them."

And then she lapsed back into silence. Now he was getting irritated. But before he could say anything irrevocably dumb, they arrived at his house. They entered and he immediately pointed to the couch. "You're not getting any sustenance until we get to the bottom of this. Sit."

A stubborn frown creased her brow, but then she moved to the couch like she was marching to Pretoria. He tossed his keys on the desk by the door and came and planted himself firmly in front of her.

"What's going on? And don't tell me nothing, because I'm not that stupid. I left you Saturday night and I thought everything was great. I come back today and I don't know who you are."

"Maybe that's it; you don't know me at all."

"I think I do."

"One night of sex doesn't instantly gain you access to my mind."

He almost reeled back from that one. "We've had a lot more than just one night of sex."

"Have we?"

He growled. "How is it that you talk so much when we're making love and now I can't drag the time of day out of you? And don't give me that old 'If you don't know, I'm not telling you' routine. I don't know. I can't read your mind. Just tell me what I did wrong."

She wrapped her arms around her waist. "It's just…just...I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"I don't know! I know it's not fair to tell you one day that I don't mind if you just want to date me or have my body when you want it, then get mad when you take me at my word."

"How do you figure I took you at your word?"

"Well, you barely called and when you did it was like a duty call. You weren't even there."

And finally, the stupidity drained from his confused brain. Of course. For someone who placed so little value in her worth as a woman, any signs could be taken as rejection. She had to get over this. He'd love to make it his mission to show her how much he valued her. But damned if he knew how.

He was used to two kinds of women: those who thought so highly of themselves that they made a man feel like he should be honored to be in their illustrious company—Krista fell into that one—and those who placed so little value on their self-worth that they just didn't care. Just about every other woman he'd ever been with fell into that category.

He'd never been with one who wanted desperately to be seen and heard, but felt like she'd been invisible all of her life—and insecure about her worth to those around her. Right now he was sitting beside this kind. And he didn't know what to do with her.

"You're mad because I didn't call more?"

"I'm not mad. Seriously I'm not." She took a breath. "And I'm not saying another word until you offer me a beverage."

She was trying his patience, but he figured a small break might be a good opportunity for both of them to sit back and take a few deep breaths. "What can I get you?"

"Are we still having pizza? Or am I close to being kicked out?"

"We're still having pizza."

"A beer, please."

He chuckled on his way to the kitchen. He wondered if she'd ever cease to surprise him. She was so refined and elegant, he'd never have expected she'd order a cold one. He pulled two out, poured them into chilled mugs and brought them back out. But the time he got there, he felt ready for round two.

"Okay, let's have it."

She took such a slug of beer that she had to lick foam off her upper lip, and no matter how frustrated he was right now, the action managed to fire up hormones all over his body.

"The thing is, John, I don't have much experience in this whole dating thing."

"Okay."

"I had so much fun on Friday and Saturday, and then Randy and Leah sort of mentioned they thought you were having fun too. I don't know. I guess I expected more than I should have. And when you called me those couple of times at the beginning of the week, it was like you didn't really want to talk to me, but felt obligated. So I decided to give you an out."

"Okay, I can deal with this." He said and he finally sat down beside her. "First of all, I don't spend my personal time with anyone out of a sense of obligation. If I'd rather have been doing laundry tonight, I wouldn't have asked you over. I'd be pouring fabric softener. Got it?"

"Yes." She said but there was still a concerned frown on her face.

He took a deep breath and decided to attack this from another angle. "Let me explain a few things okay?"

"Okay."

"I was an agent with the FBI for years. One of the things they drill into you is that when you're working an assignment, that assignment and your goals in that assignment are your major focus. Not only because they're paying you to do it, but because taking your mind off the task could cost you or someone else or the government. It sounds melodramatic to say its life and death, but the truth is, sometimes it is."

She nodded her eyes wide.

"I didn't automatically lose that mind-set when I quit. First my focus was on making this business work, and once it worked and I had clients, the focus was on making sure I secured my clients' goals not just because I wanted to be a success or rich or anything like that. But sometimes those clients need me. And it matters to me that I don't fail them."

"I understand that."

"It wasn't that I didn't think about you while I was gone; it was that I was focused on the mission of the trip. And it never, ever occurred to me that you would interpret it any other way."

"I'm sorry John. Even with a minor in psychology, I can be really lousy at reading other people."

"No, I'm a lousy communicator."

"No, you're not. I'm a dunce when it comes to dating."

"No, you're not. I'm a dunce when it comes to women."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then burst out laughing.

"My God." Aubrie said. "We deserve each other."

"Let me add one more thing, just to put this into perspective. For a long time, the only women I dated were Candi types. They were easy—easy to find, and easy to walk away from. And I have never, ever called another woman while on assignment. That's the God's honest truth. I'm not saying you should feel like I bestowed some great honor on you. I'm saying that I missed you enough that even in the middle of poring over documents I just wanted to hear your voice, even for a minute."

To his horror, tears popped into her eyes and she flung herself at him. "I'm so sorry, John!"

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart. I'm not promising I'll be calling you five times a day when I'm away, but I will promise to find a way to make you realize I'm thinking about you."

She shook her head. "No, no, you don't have to. You really don't. Now that I understand, everything's good. I promise. And besides, you don't owe me anything. You didn't even owe me that explanation."

"Maybe not but I wanted you to have it. And trust me, you're the first woman in forever I've felt a desire to explain something to."

"Can we start over?" She asked, looking up at him.

God, he'd missed her. "Absolutely."

"Welcome home, John."

"It's good to be home." And then he kissed her and truer words had never been spoken. Her lips felt like home. Her scent smelled like home. The silky feel of her hair and skin felt like home. He was home.

When he lifted his head, she was smiling. Her eyes opened slowly. Perfect blue. He knew that look. And his body quickened. He'd made a promise to himself on the flight home that he wouldn't just pick her up and ravish her tonight, no matter how much he wanted to do exactly that. He was going to show her that getting her naked was not the only thing on his mind. But he wasn't about to deny her if she wanted—

"Let's make love." She whispered.

"No pizza first."

"I'd rather work up an appetite."

"Whatever the lady wants." He said, and led her back to his room.

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	35. Chapter 35

"Not a chance." Aubrie said stubbornly, looking around Mike's office at three expectant and hopeful faces.

John came and stood in front of her chair and leaned over, his hands on the chair's arms. "Please, Aubrie, we need your help."

"Why me?"

"Because Alex Riley had a crush on you a mile wide when you were working here. He'd be so thrilled to see you, he'd let down his guard."

"He had a crush on Candi."

"Exactly."

"I gave up Candi for good."

"Resurrect her for just a little while."

"Name me one good reason I should do this."

"I'll name you five." John said. He held up his fingers and began ticking them off. "For Michelle. For Mike. For Nicole. For Rose Cosmetics. For Apple Day."

By her count he left off a very important one. For John. "We have no way of knowing that bringing Candi back is going to help at all. And I'm not a spy."

"Doing nothing certainly isn't going to help." John said. "And you don't have to be a spy. I'll coach you through what you should do."

"Is there any danger in this?" Mike said. "Because if there is, we'll find another way."

"No danger whatsoever. We're going to have her waiting to follow Alex after work to the pizza place. She'll just go in and dazzle him. That's it."

"Are you sure?" Nicole asked.

Aubrie was at least gratified that Mike and Nicole were worried about her welfare. Apparently John wasn't so concerned.

Then again, John was the pro. She had to believe that he was certain this wasn't dangerous. She had to believe that he cared at least that much.

"But that Pump You Up." She moaned. "It's torture."

"I'll make it up to you, sis." Mike said.

Okay, if she was going to be tortured, she was milking it. "How?"

"Well, we'll pay you for one." Nicole said.

"There isn't enough money to make me willingly put on that contraption again."

The three others looked at each other, apparently at a loss. She almost felt sorry for them. Everything she held dear she pretty much already had, or was well on her way to working toward.

"Free Apple Day products for life?" Nicole said.

"Ditto for Rose Cosmetics." Mike said which was a joke, because he already gave her those. In fact, she was often his guinea pig when his company was about to introduce a new product.

She shook her head. "On one condition and only one condition."

"Name it." They all said in unison.

"You!" She pointed at Mike. "And you!" She pointed at Nicole. "Agree that you will talk up John's security company to every corporate bigwig you know."

"Done." Mike said.

"Done." Nicole said.

John just stood there staring at her. She ignored him. "I mean it, you two. I want to see results. Between the two of you, you know every head honcho in town and in the industry. I want it to be known that if they don't have a Cena security system, they're idiots. I want it to be known that your companies banded together to wipe out a corporate espionage scheme and John got it for you. Got it?"

Nicole smiled at her. "I'll do you one better. At our next national convention, I promise to hold a workshop on how banding together makes companies—and the industry—stronger. And just how Michelle"—she got a bit of a distasteful look on her face—"and Mike and I benefited from using a company like John's."

"I want his company name-dropped at least five times during the workshop."

"Easily."

"I'll do the workshop with you." Mike said.

"As long as it's you and not Michelle." Nicole retorted.

"Done."

Aubrie stared hard between the two of them. "You'd better deliver."

"We will."

Suddenly they all remembered John was still in the room. Aubrie looked up and saw the expression on his face, and wasn't sure if he was angry or in a coma.

"Good God." Mike said. "You're rendered the man speechless."

Aubrie was feeling saucy, but also a little worried that she'd really ticked him off. So she decided at dramatic but quick exit was her best bet. "Excuse me while I go bra shopping." She said, jumping up and heading toward the door, feeling it prudent to get the heck out of there.

"What happened to the bras you already have?" Nicole asked, as Aubrie turned the knob.

"I burned them."

The meeting was far from over, but John finally found his tongue. "Excuse me." He said to Nicole and Mike. "I'll be right back."

"Take your time." Nicole called as he strode after Aubrie.

He caught her at the elevator doors, jabbing the buttons and looking over her shoulder as if she feared the devil was after her. When she spied him approaching, she offered him a weak don't-hurt-me smile. Right as he took her arm, the door opened, and a messenger stood gazing at them a little warily.

"You looking for this floor?" John said.

"Yes." He glanced down at the package in his hands. "Mike Mizanin's office?"

"Then go ahead. Down the hall and to the left."

The kid scrambled and John dragged Aubrie into the elevator. She looked around, apparently to see if she could locate the monitor so she could cry for help if she needed it.

He grabbed both her arms and turned her to face him. "Why did you do that?" he asked.

"I…couldn't think of anything else?" She squeaked out.

"Aubrie, you could have asked for anything."

She pulled away, crossed her arms, and shot him a belligerent look. "That's what I wanted. I'm sorry if you don't like it, but—"

He shut her up with a hard kiss. He didn't stop until he felt her body soften and melt into his. Then he broke the lip-lock, albeit reluctantly. "That was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." He said, and it wasn't' a lie. He'd had partners in law enforcement who watched his back, and on too many occasions saved his life. But that was their job. His family had always been good to him, but that was their jobs, too. This was so different as to almost be alien.

"I wasn't being nice."

"No? What were you being?"

"I was thinking that if you start getting millions of clients, you can afford to make someone else put on that damn bra."

"Okay, the receiver is on the right side; the microphone is on the left. "

Aubrie couldn't believe John was fastening things inside her bra. She couldn't believe she was doing this at all. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Not at all. But it's worth a shot."

"I don't know if I can pull it off, John. You yourself said I stink at the bimbo business."

"Trust me, Alex believed because he wanted to believe."

"But I don't know how to do what you do."

"I gave you a loose script. You don't have to follow it verbatim. Just improvise and have fun."

"Have fun? Are you out of your mind?"

"Yes. Over you. Now listen, we're going to be right outside, or be following wherever you go. You are not in any danger whatsoever. Just say the word and we'll be there."

"What's the word?"

"Whatever you want it to be. Name it."

Aubrie thought about that. "How about Titanic?"

He laughed. "Okay. Why Titanic?"

"Because I have a feeling I'm going to sink."

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	36. Chapter 36

Aubrie had to don the Candi getup for three days before security signaled that Alex had taken the bait they'd planted. John kissed her and said. "Go get 'em, slugger."

She waited until Alex had pedaled down the road out of sight before hopping into her car and zooming past him to get to the pizza place before he showed up. She kept running the lines she was supposed to say through her mind, certain she was going to screw this up.

In her ear she heard John say. "Can you hear me?"

"So far so good." She said. "But I forget which boob is which."

"You'll be transmitting from the left, hearing us from the right."

"Right, hear; left, laugh." She said, just to try to find something to keep them straight.

She reached the pizza place and sat down. The waiter came over and stared at her breasts. Great. She was hating this already.

"Can I get you something?"

"No, thanks, I'm waiting for my…girlfriend."

About ten minutes later Alex walked through the door. He had a knapsack slung over his shoulder. He also didn't see her.

She jumped up. "Alex, is that you?" She squealed. "Long time no see."

He turned and the look on his face would have been priceless if it didn't kind of give her the willies. The kid couldn't be older than twenty.

"Miss Morgan!" he said, heading straight for her. "It's so good to see you again."

Left, laugh. She grabbed his arm so her left breast was closet to him. "How are you, sugar?"

"Just fine. But we sure do miss you at the office."

"Isn't that sweet of you to say, you silly thing." She simpered, and had to keep herself from gritting her teeth when she heard a deep chuckle in her ear. "I sure miss y'all too. Especially you, you cute thing."

The boy blushed right down to his throat, which almost made her feel bad for him. "Do you work here, too?" She asked.

"Yes. For extra money. I deliver." He said and then winked at her. Suddenly she didn't feel so bad for the kid.

"I have always wanted to know how that works." She heard in her ear.

"That is so cool, because I've always wanted to know how that works. I'm thinking of applying."

Alex glanced around, and then turned back at her. "If you want, I'll take you around tonight. It's not supposed to be allowed—you know, insurance—but I'd be happy to show you the ropes."

"That would be super!"

"Let me clock in and I'll be back and let you know what to do."

"You are just the cutest!"

Still more laughter in her ear. Jimmy disappeared and she leaned down toward her left breast. "I'm going to kill you."

"I'm sorry. Okay, go on his rounds with him. See if he drops anything more than pizza anywhere."

"Will you be following us?"

"I told you we would."

"Well, you'd better." She said. "I've already got the creeps."

"We'll be right behind you."

"You'd better be." She whispered. "Otherwise I'm suing for inflammation of character."

John's laughter filled her ear and she was torn between irritation and pleasure at the sound of his deep chuckle. No one's laugh should be that sexy. Especially when he was laughing at her.

"You owe me." She said.

"What?" Alex said beside her, looking at her strangely. Probably because she was talking directly into her left breast.

"I said my favorite pizza is pepperoni."

The laughter in her ear could possibly cause damage, Oh, John was in trouble.

"Well, I have my first five deliveries." Alex said. "I bet I could filch us a couple of slices of pepperoni for the ride."

She wanted pizza right now about as much as she wanted to get in the car with the thieving little twerp. "That would great!"

"So here's what you do." Alex said, bending lower.

Aubrie tried to surreptitiously thrust out her left breast in his direction so he came in loud and clear.

"The car is in back." Alex continued. "Go on out to the side and I'll pick you up. No windows on that side for anyone here to see you."

Aubrie smiled and wiggled out of her booth and headed out the door. "Lecherous little demon." She said.

"Sounds like he's done this before." John remarked.

"You'd better not lose me, because I've got the creeps."

"We're with you, honey. I'm not letting anything happen to you."

"Why me? Doesn't the police department have undercover females who are good at these things?"

"He knows you. Instant familiarity."

"You owe me." She said again.

"I know pepperoni. I'll buy you lots of it."

"Buy it in those long casings so I can thwap you with one."

"You're doing great. Just remem—"

"He's coming; don't distract me."

Aubrie slid her bottom into the cheap, smelly car and pretended to be fascinated. "Where are we going?"

"All of these are deliveries to Fall Church. They try to give us sections of town. I always take Falls Church. Less traffic."

"Oh, how smart of them."

Alex made four deliveries that seemed routine enough to her. But what the hell did she know? He talked about each tip and tipper, griping sometimes, elated once.

"Does this make you much extra cash?" Aubrie asked after the fourth delivery.

"Yes. I make really good money." He boasted.

"How?"

"I know the right deliveries to make." He said.

"Special pizza?"

"That and other things." He looked over at her, smiled, and then laid a hand on her leg that would have her washing it off for a week. "I make good money in lots of ways."

"Do you make that much money at Rose Cosmetics? Because I sure didn't make enough to keep me in lipstick."

"I make a lot there." He said.

He was either boasting to impress her or referring to something else, because she knew for a fact that all interns made minimum wage.

"You're that good?" She asked, going for a wide-eyed and impressed.

"I know how to turn a profit. I could take you out on the town."

Over my dead body.

"Over my dead body." She heard John mutter in her ear. She smiled.

"You'd like that?" Alex asked.

"That would be cool!" She was running out of expletives.

"We have one more to go; then I want to show you something before we head back for more delivery orders."

"Excellent!"

They drove into the heart of Fall Church and Alex pulled up to a very upscale town-house complex. "I'll be right back, Candi." He said, obviously feeling they'd moved into first-name familiarity.

Aubrie was so rattled; she forgot which boob she should be talking to. So she split it down the middle. "He took his backpack with him this time."

"Where are you?"

"On a pretty side street. I'm sorry I didn't get the name. But we're right across the street from tennis courts, and what looks like a government building. Police station or something."

"Can you get a street number, at least?"

"It looks like two-eleven." She took a breath.

"Bingo. Two-eleven Park is Michael's address."

"Are you nearby? Because he's planning on showing me something I'm not sure I want to see."

"We're about a half mile away. Don't worry honey, we have your back."

"Just make certain you have my front and all points in between. I'm creeped out, John."

"Nothing will happen to you. I promise."

"This is the first time he went inside." She reported. "The last few stops\, he never made it past the porch."

"Gotcha. We're almost home."

Aubrie tried to get her breathing under control while she watched Alex approach a few minutes later. He was grinning.

When he got to the car, she said. "You look happy."

The idiot waved a twenty at her, obviously to impress her. Cheating paid well, apparently. Even for morons.

"Wow!" She said all breathy. "That was some big tip!"

"This is a relative of mine. I make sure he gets extra cheese, if you get my drift."

She got his drift, all right. The boy was cheating her brother. She wanted to strangle him.

"I think I'd like doing this job." She said. "If it pays this well."

"You probably can't expect this much money." He warned her. "Unless you think you could get your job back at Rose Cosmetics. Then we could do some serious business."

Murder was too good for him.

The last destination scared the spit out of Aubrie. The boy was steering them out to some solitary place in Great Falls. He drove them down to a dead-end street and parked.

"What are we doing here?" She asked, having a hard time keeping up her high-pitched bimbo voice.

"I thought you'd like to give me a thank-you kiss for all of the advice."

"You know." Aubrie said talking to her right boob. "You remind me of that guy in the Titanic. It's like you're the king of the world."

He tried to grab for her, but she shoved open her door and flew out. Talking to her left boob, just in case the right one was the wrong one. "This even reminds me of the Titanic!"

"Come here sweetheart." The little creep said. "One kiss."

He caught her before she could get ten feet away. "You know you want this too."

"Want this?"

He tried to grab at her breast, which was bad for many reasons. She pulled away and said. "I don't know what you mean. And I'm not that kind of girl."

"Of course you are."

She was going into a new career and it wasn't as an undercover bimbo. "I'm not."

"I'll teach you."

"As much as I'd love that lesson, you're a little young to know much. Call me in a decade or so."

"Just show me a little skin. And I'll show you what I can do with it."

Aubrie was boggled that this young kid was such a disgusting lech. She tried to wiggle around as much as she could to keep his hands from connecting with what weren't her breasts. And to possibly mess with her lifeline. "You know, you even remind me of Leonardo DiCapiro from the Titanic, dammit!" She almost screamed at her chest. "So suave and hero like."

If blaring sirens and lights hadn't blasted them right then, Aubrie feared she'd have had a serious panic attack. The boy was sick.

But just in time a police car pulled up, and a big, burly guy she didn't recognize lumbered out with a flashlight that could light up Manhattan in a pinch.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?" She breathed, wanting to rush into the guy's arms.

"Are you Candi Morgan?"

"Who's asking?" She said, because she thought sounding tough might be a good idea.

"I'm the Maytag Repair Man." The guy said. "I hear your washer's broken. Are you Ms. Morgan or not?"

Time to get out of here. "Have you ever seen the Titanic?"

"He's a cop." Alex said, rather irrelevantly.

"The captain and I are on a first name basis." Her rescuer said.

"Yes, I am Candi Morgan."

"Well, then, ma'am, you'll have to come with me."

"Why is that?" Alex asked.

"She's wanted."

"Wanted?" She and Alex said at the same time.

"Yes, for solicitation."

"Solicitation?" Alex said.

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid she's a lady of the evening."

"Excuse me?" Aubrie said.

"She's a prostitute."

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	37. Chapter 37

"I might never speak to any of you again." Aubrie said.

"You got us what we needed." Mike reminded her.

"I'm out of the spy business for good."

"Yes, you are." John said, looking grim. "I didn't think the kid would go that far."

Aubrie studied John's face and realization hit her. He was going to blame himself for this forever. It didn't matter if he liked or hated her; he was going to feel like he'd failed her. And the guilt would eat him alive. That wasn't' going to happen on her watch.

She looked at Nicole and Mike said. "Get out."

"Excuse me?" Mike said.

"You heard me. Get the hell out of here, now."

"Aubrie, this is my off—"

"Get out. Now."

Mike looked at Nicole. "Feel like a doughnut from the lunchroom?"

"Sounds good to me." Nicole said, as she nearly jumped out of her chair.

"Close the door behind you." Aubrie demanded. The door closed with undue haste.

Aubrie waited for a few seconds, looking at the agony on John's face and her heart broke. "I complained too much." She said softly.

He shook his head, still staring at something on Mike's desk. "I can't believe I asked you to do that."

"You promised you'd be at my back and you were."

"You could have been—"

She didn't like thinking about could-have-beens either. "I wasn't, John. I'm here; I'm whole; I'm fine."

"Leah, I—"

"….don't want to talk about it. I know. You'll just eat yourself alive with guilt. Well, I'm sick of it. You weren't responsible for what happened to Randy and Leah. You aren't responsible for what that little pervert did. No one could have foreseen that the pimply little bashful kid was a lech."

"I should have."

Aubrie took a deep breath. "Let me ask you this."

He finally looked up and the agony in his eyes just about laid her low. "What?"

"Do you think Mike would have let me go out there tonight if he'd have foreseen this?"

"Of course not."

"Guess what, brainiac? Mike was all for this plan."

"He didn't know any better."

"None of us did. And guess what again? Mike and Nicole, who signed off on this, are not out there eating themselves up over it. They're just grateful you and your men were there. And so am I. And I'll tell you one other thing, and then you let this go or I'll kick your butt. If you asked me to do it again right now, I would. As long as I knew you were sitting on the other end of my lifeline."

He finally showed a ghost of a smile. "I don't deserve you."

"That's true. I'm a pretty damn good spy."

He laughed and then pulled her to her feet. "I'll concede the Putt-Putt issue, but honey, you suck at being a bimbo and you suck at being a spy."

"You flatterer, you."

It took over a month for the police to get all of their ducks in a row. Although everything caught on tape from Aubrie's foray into spying was inadmissible as evidence, they had gathered valuable information by keeping surveillance on the house where Aubrie had seen Alex receive the envelope of money—information that the police hoped would eventually help to make an airtight case against Alex and Michael. And then the wait began for Michael Cole to make his move. Finally, it happened. One Tuesday morning in a development meeting, Michael proposed a new antiaging cream, claiming he'd just invented the next best thing to face-lifts.

The waiting had taken its toll on Nicole, who desperately wanted this to be the answer to the mystery, and for her to be able to clear her name and the company's reputation.

She knew Mike believed her, and she adored him for it. Still, it was human nature, in her opinion, for someone falsely accused to want to be able to throw proof in the accuser's face that she was utterly innocent.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Michelle Mizanin had been almost nonexistent the last six weeks or so. Nicole had to wonder what the woman was up to. Both Mike and Aubrie had been strangely reticent about the whole thing.

Nicole called Mike after the meeting was over and when he answered, she said. "We've got him."

"Are you serious?"

"I have his proposal and his notes in my hot little hands."

"Okay, I'll call Cena, and he'll pull in the cops. Let's meet this afternoon."

"On one condition." She said. "I want Michelle there this time."

"We can't do that, Nicole."

"Why not?"

"She's not in town."

"Where the hell is she, Mike?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Is she in detox somewhere or something?"

"I can't tell you."

"No Michelle, no proof."

"Nicole, be reasonable. We need to move on this now."

"No. She's been accusing me from day one. I want to see her face when I hand her this file."

He paused. "I'll see what I can do. But it won't be until tomorrow."

"Fine."

"This is a mistake, Nicole."

"Why?"

"Because Michelle is a figurehead. I'm the one who runs this company."

"Find her and get her in there." And she hung up.

She locked the file in her floor safe, and then sat back. She was missing something here. What was it?'

Were Mike and Michelle at odds of sorts? Was he trying to take the company away from his sister? Lord knew they didn't spend much twin buddy time together. In fact, she'd never once seen them in the same room. It was either one or the other, like a tag team. Or was it—"

"Oh, my God." She whispered, as a ton of bricks slammed into her head.

She sat back a minute, just to make certain she wasn't losing her mind. Had she ever seen the two together? She racked her brain, praying to remember at least one instance when she had been in the same room with the two of them.

She couldn't recall a single one. Mike and Aubrie, yes. Michelle and Aubrie, yes. Mike and Michelle, no. Her face heated up as she thought about the times she'd been around Michelle, and no matter how aggravating the woman had been, she'd come away oddly stimulated.

She almost gagged, remembering her conversation with Aubrie, confiding that she was a little concerned about her strange attraction to Aubrie's sister. And Aubrie's reaction? She'd asked if maybe Nicole was attracted to Michelle because she looked so much like Mike.

She thought back to all the times that either Mike or Aubrie or both had made excuses for why Michelle was absent. And worst of all, she thought of all of the nights she and Mike had spent together, watching movies, making love, talking. And all of that time, he'd kept up the lie.

Their entire relationship was a farce. Had he sweet talked her into bed for a different purpose altogether? It hurt like hell to believe it, but she'd be a fool not to. She hadn't gotten as far as she had by turning a blind eye to lousy news. And this was as lousy as it got.

She felt used. She'd fallen for Mike so fast and hard that she hadn't stepped back to assess the situation. She'd blindly believed his words and his gentle touch. Oh, God, if she was right, she'd never feel that gentle touch again.

Nicole breathed in deeply. She couldn't think about the losses. She had to keep the anger flowing. He'd used her. He'd used her. He'd used her. Worse, she'd allowed herself to be used. There, that thought worked. She was furious at herself for being so stupid. Now to confront the man who'd duped her.

With a vengeance she unlocked the safe and snatched out the files, slamming them into her briefcase. She stalked out of her office, toward her secretary, who looked startled.

"I'm going out." She said.

"But your three o'clock."

"Cancel it."

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	38. Chapter 38

"You bastard." Nicole said as she stormed into Mike's office, nearly knocking over his secretary along the way.

"Mr. Mizanin, I tried. But—"

"It's okay." He said, standing. "Close the door behind you, please."

He waved Nicole into a chair, but she stood stubbornly still. "What's wrong, Nicole?"

"You're Michelle."

"What?"

"You heard me, you creep. Go ahead, try to deny it."

A flush crept up his face. "Nicole, listen."

"You are, aren't you?"

"There are reasons I had to do it."

"Oh, my God, you are." She began pacing. "All this time. How stupid could I be?"

"You weren't stupid, Nicole. No one knows it, not even anyone in this office."

"Have you been sleeping with anyone in this office?" She asked sarcastically.

"Of course not."

"You lied to me. You made a fool of me."

"No! I never meant to do anything like that. The Michelle thing had nothing to do with you."

"It had everything to do with me when you used her as your excuse to accuse me of stealing from you."

"It wasn't like that."

"It was exactly like that. Here you sat pretending to be the conciliatory underling, apologizing for her every step of the way, then turning around and making my life hell under her disguise."

"Look, let me come over later and I'll explain everything."

"That'll be the day. Don't you come within a mile of me ever again?"

"Don't do this, Nicole. Hear me out."

"I hope I never hear your voice again as long as I live."

"Nicole, I love you."

Her laughter was embarrassingly hysterical. "Right. Funny way of showing it, you jerk."

If she didn't leave, she was going to burst into tears, and there was no way she'd give him that satisfaction. She dug through her briefcase and pulled out the file. "There's your proof, you idiot. Do what you will with it. But from now on, I talk only to John Cena about this case."

He started to walk around the desk.

"No! You come near me and I'll scream my bloody head off." An involuntary sob slipped through. She nodded at the file. "You've got what you wanted from me. Now leave me alone."

"Nicole—"

She headed toward the door. Right before she flung it open she said. "You know, Mike, you make an ugly woman. And right now you make an even uglier man. It turns out you're a pretty ugly human being."

"Nicole, its Aubrie. Please call me. I know you're hurt, but you have to understand all this before you judge Mike so harshly. He had reasons, good reasons why he couldn't' tell anyone about this."

Nicole sat on the sofa in her darkened living room, clutching a pillow to her chest, listening to about the tenth message from Mike and Aubrie. She didn't want to hear it. Nothing could justify his deception. Nothing. And she wanted to lick her wounds in private.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Gabby squawked.

"Thank you, Gabby." She whispered. "Me too."

God, what a fool. She'd fallen for all of Mike's bull, hook, line, and sinker.

"Nicole, I'm your friend." Aubrie said. "I hope you know that. I've hated that we haven't been able to tell you."

Her friend? That was the last straw. She snatched up the phone. "Aubrie, listen to me and listen good. You aren't my friend. You're as much of a fraud as he is. Do you people get your jollies making everyone look like fools? Don't ever, ever call here again."

"Nicole, Mike loves you. And I….I truly value our friendship."

"You know, it takes a lot of nerve to say that. Last I looked it up, part of the definition of friendship included honesty."

"Okay, don't forgive me. But please give Mike a chance."

"You know, it just occurred to me. He's such a coward that he lets his fake sister and his real sister do his talking for him."

"He has no idea I've been calling you."

"Right."

"Nicole, he called me at home and told me what happened. I almost didn't recognize his voice. He's out of his mind over this."

"You know, Aubrie, right now I don't give a damn. Good-bye."

"Wait!" was the last thing she heard before she hung up.

"I have to tell John, Mike. Nicole's going to tell him eventually and I don't want him hearing it from her.

Her heart broke for her brother as he sat on their sofa, bent over, head in his hands.

"Go ahead." He said. "It doesn't matter any longer."

"It does to the company."

"I'm calling a meeting tomorrow and announcing it."

"You can't do that! It's too soon! What if your backer calls in the final note?"

"It'll be a blow but not a final blow. Today was a final blow."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry."

"I know. Go find John, Aubrie. I don't want him hearing it from Nicole either."

"Give her time. She'll come to understand."

"No, she won't. I broke a trust."

"You did what you had to do."

"As soon as things started getting personal with us. I should have told her. At least then she could have made an informed choice. As it was, our relationship happened so fast and I was too afraid of losing her. I deserve this. I deserve how she feels about me."

"You listen to me. You have the biggest heart of any man I've ever known. You pulled off this Michelle gig far longer than anyone should have to because you were looking out for Gramps and me and Rose Cosmetics and its employees. You would never intentionally hurt anyone. Nicole will realize it eventually. Just give her time to simmer down and time to remember how she feels about you deep inside."

He shook his head. "Go to John, Aubrie. Salvage that, at least."

"What's wrong, Aubrie?" John asked. "You call me in the middle of meeting, tell me it's an emergency and to meet you at my house and now you're pacing my carpet bare. Talk already!"

"I want you to understand something."

"Well, if you want me to memorize your walk, I've got that one down. Otherwise, say something."

She stopped and faced him. "Several years ago my brother tried to get financing for a new business."

"Okay."

"He was turned down."

"Okay."

"Because he was a young man."

"It's a hard sell in his business."

"But someone called a...a…venture something, approached him and said he'd be willing to put up the money if Mike could get a woman to front for him as head of the company."

"Why would that matter?"

"Who knows? I know nothing about business."

John sat there for a second. "Okay I'm starting to get it. So he enlisted Michelle's help. She's merely a figurehead. No wonder Mike does all the work."

"Not exactly."

"What then?"

"Mike isn't a twin, John."

"Then who's…ohhhhhhhhh. You're kidding, right?"

She shook her head. "He made her up. He didn't want some other woman acting as the head of the company and then somehow coming back and trying to actually take it over." She waved. "Mike didn't' want to take any chance with the business."

"Are you saying…Mike has been playing Michelle all of these years?"

She nodded, mute. Her eyes were so distressed; John wanted to pull her into his arms. But there was more to this. "Okay, so he fooled us all. Good for him. It worked."

She stared at him. "You're not mad?"

"I'm mad at myself for not catching on."

"I have a theory that people see what they are told to expect."

"I saw through you. I saw through Nicole."

"What can I say? We're bad at this."

It was like he didn't hear her. "I'm irritated that he didn't confide in me. I should have known the complete story so I could give him the best advice possible. But mad that he did what he had to do to achieve his goals? No, I'm not mad at him."

Unfortunately, that was something of a lie. He felt a slight bite of betrayal. Nothing nearly as hard-hitting as when he and Randy learned their boss had set them up, then tried to kill them. That was a little more extreme, and it had knotted his gut. Not like Krista's betrayal, because even after what she'd done, he was devastated more for their child. This kind hurt in a different way. It had settled in his chest.

"Are you mad at me?"

"A little."

She ran around the coffee table and sat down grabbing his hand. "I wasn't trying to deceive you, John. I swear. It was just…he's my brother. And the company means so much to him."

"From what he told me, Rose Cosmetics has been turning a profit for a while now. Much sooner than expected, and that's even with reinvesting in expansion. Why'd he keep it up?"

"He wanted it to stay that way until he had the loan paid down. Then he was going to announce that Michelle was retiring and he'd be the new CEO. It would be a smooth transition. No one would panic because he's been running the company so long anyway." She grabbed a shaky breath. "And he was so close. And then all of this stuff happened with Apple Day and that set him back a little because he was determined to figure out how his competitor was getting hold of his company's innovations."

John sat there for a while, chewing on it. He finally looked into her worried eyes and laughed, more at himself than the situation. "Looking back on it, it all makes sense. You know, he's a really unappealing woman."

Aubrie tried to smile but it wasn't ready to work its way into full-blown humor, by the looks at her.

"And I could never get the two of them together. It was one or the other. How stupid was I?"

"He wasn't playing you for a fool. I swear."

"No, that's not Mike's style."

But truth didn't seem to be in Mike's style either. Or Aubrie's right now. And here was the woman he would have sworn would tell him anything he asked her. But for weeks now she'd been keeping up this ruse with him. Perpetuating it, even. She'd also lied about her relationship to Mike. He'd found out by a slip of the tongue that they were brother and sister.

Then there was Mike allowing him to pursue Aubrie as a suspect, when he knew damn well it was a dead end. And there was Aubrie, who'd wasted his time by putting on that show with Nicole dressed as a man and making him wonder if she wasn't the one infiltrating Rose Cosmetics.

John shook his head, trying to equate the Aubrie he knew so intimately, who talked openly about herself, to the one who made excuses for Michelle's absences at any given moment.

"He truly respects you and your work." She said, slicing into his darkening thoughts.

"He'd have canceled my services long ago if he weren't happy. I'm not sure that equates to respecting me."

She collapsed back on the sofa. "So you are angry."

He looked for a word that worked better. He couldn't' find one, because he wasn't certain what he was feeling right now.

"Don't give him grief."

John barked a laugh. "Trust me; I'm not letting him off easy. He did leave out some key things that might have helped us a long time ago."

"John?"

"Yes."

"Please he's going through a lot."

"Such as?"

"Nicole found out."

He whistled. "Mike finally told her?"

"No, she figured it out."

"Ah damn I bet she didn't take it well." How am I taking it? He didn't have an answer. He needed to think.

"World-recorded understatement." She looked down. "She hates me too."

"Nobody could hate you."

"Pencil her in as number one."

"I wish I could help."

"It's going to get worse. Mike's making the announcement tomorrow to his employees."

"Tell him to stick to the 'Michelle's retiring story'."

"Are you kidding? How fast do you think Nicole would unveil him, so to speak?"

"She doesn't seem like the vindictive type."

"I hope not. But Mike wants to bare his soul, I guess."

"So, Miss Aubrie, bare your soul to me."

"What do you mean?"

"How many more family and personal secrets are you hiding?" he'd been teasing but he knew instantly what a huge mistake he'd just made.

Her face turned beet red and she jumped from the sofa. "How dare you say that?"

He held up his hands. "I was just kidding." But he realized with sudden clarity that that wasn't entirely true. This news wasn't' digesting well.

She stared at him and then shook her head. "No, you weren't."

"Maybe not. I don't know. What are you expecting me to say? 'No problem, Aubrie. Let's go make love and forget the whole thing'"

"No, I realize you have to sort it out. I'm just hoping that once you do, you realize it was utterly innocent."

"It's personal fraud."

She sucked in a hard breath. "That's low."

"So's lying."

"Oh and you, Mr. Spy Guy, have always told the lily-white truth."

"That's different. It wasn't personal; it was professional."

"What Mike did was for professional reasons, too."

"Mike, right. That I semi understand."

"But not me right? And now you believe that you can't believe a thing I say. As reasonable as you seemed to be about the situation, you just extrapolated."

"Is that a big sociology term?" Well, that came out sounding sarcastic.

"Look it up." That came out even more sarcastic.

Then he decided to become defensively dumb. He resented her dishonesty more than he'd first realized. And it was building out of control. "You have to admit, there's a pattern here."

"For totally different purposes!"

He needed time to think. And he wasn't thinking right now. "I was teasing. Forget I said it."

"I don't think so. And right now would not be a good time to keep this conversation going. I did what I thought was right, which was making certain you learned it all from me first."

"I appreciate that. Aubrie, your nerves are raw and my nerves are raw and you just clunked me over the head with a hammer. Let's just forget it and watch cartoons or something."

"Good night, John."

How did this turn so bad so quickly? He thought he'd been acting fairly reasonably, considering she'd been keeping secrets from him for a long time. "Running away, Aubrie?"

"Getting fresh air. It's becoming stale in here."

He stood up. The haze finally blew. "How dare you throw this in my face as if it's my fault? Or Nicole's, for being angry? As far as I can tell, out of all of us, Nicole and I are the only two who have been completely honest."

"Then you and Nicole are perfect for each other."

Panic seized him. "Aubrie, wait. I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did." She said, her voice quavering as she almost sprinted to his front door. Right before she turned the knob, she said. "Just don't forget that you have secrets you haven't shared either. I figured you would talk to me when you could."

"It's not the same thing."

"Isn't it? I wouldn't know."

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	39. Chapter 39

The next month was a whirlwind. John was running frazzled between Rose Cosmetics and Apple Day. He was flying back and forth between DC and Richmond finalizing plans for Randy's incorporation into the company, and the opening of his new branch office. And then there was coordinating with law enforcement to build an airtight case against Michael Cole and his nephew, Alex Riley.

John considered it a blessing. He was busy—too busy to think about Aubrie. Except he couldn't stop thinking about her. He wondered constantly how she was doing, how she was feeling and then in tiny fits of trying put things into perspective, who she was playing this week.

He entered Nicole's office, noting right away that she looked like hell. Well, as bad as a beautiful woman could look. He had to wonder if Aubrie was also suffering. He was pretty sure he wouldn't take home any beauty prizes at the moment, either. And he'd swear Mike Mizanin had dropped at least twenty pounds in the last weeks.

"Hello John." Nicole said. "Have a seat."

He sat. "Nicole, the police are picking Michael and his nephew up this afternoon."

"And then?"

"And then they interview them and with any luck, get solid confession about who, what, where and how."

"Are we allowed to listen in?"

"Not down at the station. But after we pick them up, the first stop is Mike's office. He wants to face them first."

"Well, I want to face them, too. Bring them here afterward."

"Do I look like an errand boy? If you want to sit in on it, come to Mike's office."

"I can't." She whispered.

He sighed. "I understand that. We both were tricked, lied to. But the more I mull this over, the more I absolutely know that Aubrie and Mike don't' have intentionally hurtful bones in their bodies."

"Could have fooled me."

"I know. I feel betrayed, too. And trust me; I have big issues with betrayal. But is it better to be miserable or try to clear the air?"

"I can't look at him."

"Did you hear he made the announcement to his employees?"

"What lie did he come up with?"

"He didn't. He laid it all out on the line."

Her eyebrows shot up. "He did? How'd his employees take it?"

"They listened better than you or I did. And in the end, they gave him a standing ovation."

"They did?"

"Yes, ma'am. Apparently they weren't all that crazy about Michelle, either."

Amazingly, Nicole chuckled, and for the first time in a month he saw a twinkle come into her eyes. "I thought they'd throw tomatoes at him."

"No, that's just what you and I wanted to do."

"Did he get any major resignations?"

"Not a one. He was pretty amazed himself." John gave Nicole a hard look. "I think it's time you faced him again, Aubrie. You can't avoid him forever."

"I can try."

"Look, you don't have to forgive him. But have the guts to tell him to his face that whatever you had is over for good."

"I think he pretty much knows that." She said softly. "I know I do. And it hurts."

John was a little taken aback by that admission. He countered it was one of his own. "I miss Aubrie."

"Well, then why aren't you taking your own advice?"

"I've been busy."

"Coward."

"Look who's calling the bonfire hot."

He stood and, as usual, he felt bone-weary. "Well, I'm heading over there now."

She chewed on her lower lip. "I'm coming with you."

On the drive over to Rose Cosmetics, one thought kept running through John's mind: What was Aubrie doing?

Did she miss him at all? Did she think about him? She'd seemed to really care about him but she certainly hadn't tried to contact him. He hated to think about it, but a plausible conclusion was that he'd just been a sexual pastime to her. He'd been doing that for years with women. He couldn't' make much of a case for it to be a sin for her to feel the same way. But it hurt. The first woman he'd cared about since Krista and it had ended badly, too. What was wrong with him?"

For some reason, he was disappointed Aubrie wasn't in Mike's office when they arrived. He didn't know why he'd expected to see her there. He knew that if Mike had even asked her to attend she'd say no because John would be there. Which made it even more painful.

Mike was pouring over some notes, so without looking up, he waved a hand at a guest chair. "One second."

"I don't have all day." Nicole said.

Mike froze, and then looked up slowly, his jaw almost slack. Then he pushed to his feet and his eyes shuttered. "Nicole."

"I asked her to be here." John said. "I don't have all day, either."

"I guess that's reasonable." Mike said. "Something to drink for either of you?"

They both shook their heads.

Mike dropped back down into his chair. "The two culprits should be here in about five minutes."

Five minutes was a little too long for John to hang out in a very tense atmosphere. He stood up. "Men's room. Back shortly."

Still without meeting her gaze Mike said, "So how have you been, Nicole?"

"Better than you apparently."

He ran a hand through his hair. "I know. Aubrie tells me every day I look pretty bad."

"That's not what I was talking about."

"What, then?"

"I heard about your announcement to your company. That must have been hard."

"Not the most fun speech I've had to deliver, but I'm just glad it's over."

"So no more heels for you, hmm?"

"No thank God."

"Well, congratulations."

"Thanks."

Just seeing him had her heart pounding. The overwhelming desire to smooth the worry lines from his face and kiss his grim lips nearly had her crying. "Mike, look at me."

He finally dragged his gaze up to meet hers. "I can't take any more recriminations right now, Nicole. I just can't."

"No, more recriminations. Although I can't say I'm thrilled by all of this, I've come to understand why you did it." And she realized that she did. And that if she didn't get past this, she'd lose him for good. How stupid would that be, when she was utterly miserable right now?

He took a noisy breath. "I never meant to hurt you. Never. How was I supposed to know I'd fall in love with you?"

Those words sang straight through her. "And you believed me about the espionage that. That meant a lot."

"And now you can never believe me again."

"Try me."

He stared at her. "Believe this. I've missed the hell out of you."

"Were you telling the truth when you said you really like my enchiladas?" She asked.

"Scout's honor."

"How about tonight?"

"Oh God, Nicole. I don't know if I deserve this second chance, but I swear I won't blow it this time."

"I'm counting on it."

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	40. Chapter 40

"Why'd you do it, Michael?" Nicole asked quietly.

The little man held his hat in his hands, staring down at his lap. "I never meant to hurt anyone."

"Then why?"

"I needed the money."

"For what?"

He waved at his nephew, who didn't appear ashamed at all. Just belligerent. "The boy here needed tuition for school."

"Ever heard of student loans?"

"I didn't want him to start out life deep in debt."

"So as an example." John said, "You taught him how to be a felon instead."

"It was dumb I know." He raised pleading eyes to Nicole. "I was afraid of losing my job if I didn't come up with some good product. But with the bonuses you give when one of our new items goes into production, I just needed some help."

"By stealing from us." Mike said grimly.

"You have some good developers here."

"Thanks for the ringing endorsement."

"It'll never happen again."

"You bet it won't, Michael." Nicole said. "Because you're going to jail."

"Please don't press charges against the boy. He's just starting out."

"Not in a good direction." Mike said. "He nearly tried to assault my sister."

"Your sister?" Alex said. "Candi's your sister?"

"Um, yes."

"You know she's a hoo…umm, a, you know."

"No, she's not."

"But I saw her get arrested."

"You saw her being rescued, you twerp. You're lucky I didn't have you arrested for that."

Michael goggled at his nephew. "Is this true?"

"She tried to come on to me."

Mike jumped up, John took a menacing step toward the little pervert, but Nicole stopped them both. "Don't worry. Leave him to the professionals."

Mike sat down slowly and stared hard at Michael. "You are going to swear out your statement and you are going to state emphatically that within Apple Day, you acted alone. You did, didn't you?"

"Yes. It was just me and the boy."

"You will swear that you had no encouragement from anyone else in the company."

"Yes."

"Especially the president of your company."

"Ms. Miller had nothing to do with it." He blushed. "She wouldn't do that."

"I know." Mike said, and Nicole shot him a smile that whizzed through his body. She was giving him another chance.

And then he looked at the kid. "Well, Alex, your employment here is obviously terminated. Which is a shame, because you were a smart kid with a lot of promise." He stopped. "And I fully believe in second chances because I was recently given one. I might have forgiven the formula stealing part and asked the police to let you off with probation. But what you did that night with Candi can't be left unpunished. But it's for the courts to decide what to do with you."

Mike looked at John. "Will you take it from here?"

"Gladly." John filed out with the two culprits, leaving Mike and Nicole alone.

Nicole looked at him with a smile that could launch a thousand ships. "You know, I think I love you."

Amazingly, Mike Mizanin's announcement to his company employees met with roaring approval. Apparently they hadn't liked Michelle, much, either. Even the press, who'd picked up on the news, thought it was a great success story. And since Mike had done it all through private funding, and it was a privately owned company, he hadn't broken any laws.

John dragged himself home and dropped his briefcase on the floor, then headed straight to the kitchen for a beer. Forgoing a mug, he twisted the top and headed straight for the sofa. He was bone-tired and heart sore and he didn't know how to fix either one. Sleeping didn't help. Dreams of Aubrie haunted him. Willing himself not to think about her didn't help; it just made him think about not thinking about her. He was working harder at that than he was at work.

The front door opened, startling him. He stood and whirled, reaching instinctively for his Glock, which was no longer attached to his rib.

When he saw Jamie enter, laden down with Tupperware he moved toward her. "Hey! I assumed you were in your room. Where have you been?"

"Wednesday, dummy. Just like every other Wednesday."

That pinched, too. Jamie was a welcome guest in the Mizanin household, while he was persona non grata.

He took the packages from her and headed to the kitchen. "Smells good. What is it?"

"My superb chicken marsala, and Gramps' less-than-stellar sampling. Want to give them a taste test?"

"No, thanks. Too tired to eat."

"You look like hell."

He had grown used to her knowing this without sight. "Thanks a bunch."

"Hard couple of days?"

"You could say that."

After he dumped the bounty on the counter, he turned and hugged her. "Did you miss me?"

"Not particularly. You need to eat, John. You're too skinny."

"I can still wrestle you to the ground, brat."

She ran her fingers over his face. "And you look old."

"I feel old. So, did you have fun?"

"Tonight was a little stressful."

"As opposed to most of the nights with the Mizanin's the last month?"

"Well it was different."

"How?"

"All emotional. They've been keeping it together but this is different."

Alarm bells clanged in his head. "Why?"

"Aubrie's leaving tomorrow."

The alarms lowered to his chest. "What?"

"No biggie. I'm dead on my feet. Heading to be."

"The hell you are."

He grabbed her around the waist, ignoring her indigent shriek, lifted her up and carted her to the sofa. "Sit. Get off your feet."

"What a gracious host you are."

"What do you mean, she's leaving?"

"She got a job."

"What?"

"She's been offered a job in Georgia. She's flying down tomorrow to finalize and sign the contract. So it was kind of teary all around. We had a farewell supper tonight. And my marsala won."

"I could happily strangle you. Why haven't you told me she's been interviewing?"

She shrugged. "You told me you didn't want to talk about her."

"Where?" He asked, the word strangling his throat.

"The Georgia Bureau of Investigation."

He sat down heavily beside her. "She's leaving." And all of the abandonment from Krista came crashing down on him.

"Of course she's leaving, idiot. She was offered a job. Actually six, but she liked this one best."

He couldn't breathe.

Jamie's hand felt for his arm, then latched on. "What did you expect, John? That she'd sit around here pining for you until you grew some brains?"

That was exactly what he'd expected, he realized. No matter what had been happening, no matter where he traveled, coming back to DC he knew that if nothing else, Aubrie would be here. It had been the most comforting thought he'd allowed himself.

"Breathe in, breathe out." Jamie said. "It makes the heart happy. Of course, your brain has been dead for a while now, but we should still keep the blood flowing just in case a miracle occurs in your stupid skull."

"Did they put you up to this?" He asked.

She was silent for a really long time. "You are my brother. So I'm supposed to love you at all costs. But right now, I don't even like you." She stood up. "I'm going to bed."

"No wait!"

"No, thanks. There's food in the fridge. If you get hungry."

"Jamie, please."

She didn't sit back down but she didn't move to go. "I have been having supper with this family for a long time now. It's the highlight of my week. They love each other fiercely. They've been going through hell together. And yet they find the time to stick by each other for support. They find time to put all this crap aside to try to build something good. You go ahead and judge them all you want, big brother. You judge them your way and I'll judge them mine. And mine is better. And right now, you are despicable."

Coming from his sister, it was like a marksman going for the bull-eye. "I'm sorry." He said softly.

"Don't apologize to me. I'm not the one who needs it."

"She's leaving."

"Yes."

"Why would she leave her family? They're all she has."

She sat back down. "You're such a fool. She has her education. She has the desire to make a difference. She has the need to make her own way."

"None of that includes me."

"Why should it? Where have you been?"

"Has she talked to you about me about at all?" He asked.

"Never."

"Then now do you know all of this?" he laughed. "Dumb question."

Once again, Jamie stood. "I'm going to bed. This is giving me a headache. And I already just barely avoided one after all of the tears at the dinner table tonight. I don't want to succumb now."

"I can't stop her if you don't talk to her. But you go right ahead and be a lonely dork. I'll still love you."

"When is she leaving?"

"The car picks her up at six."

"The car? They're sending her a car?"

"Well, they asked her to hitchhike to the airport, but she held out."

"She's leaving." He repeated. "I can't stop her."

"That's true. She might be sweet, but she knows what she wants."

"And she doesn't want me."

Jamie shook a finger at the sky. "This is the burden you wanted me to bear, isn't it, Lord?"

"I'm thinking I should do something."

"Did mom and dad drop you at birth, perchance?"

He ignored that. "Okay, I'm doing something."

"Like what?"

"I just don't know. I said some things."—he heaved a breath—"that might make asking her anything impossible."

"What do you want to ask her?"

"Not to leave."

"That might be tough. She seemed excited."

"Oh."

"Because her family is cheering for her and she has nothing else holding her here."

"She has me."

"No, she doesn't." Jamie felt her watch. "You have about six hours to convince her she does. Now I'm going off to bed. With luck, you won't be here in the morning."

"Jame?"

"What, already?"

"I love you."

"You should. I'm the only sane person in this household."

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	41. Chapter 41

Aubrie came awake, realizing she should have listened to her headache and taken some aspirin, because the pounding in her head wasn't going away. But then doorbell rand five times at least, before the pounding began again. She dragged herself from her bed and opened her door, only to see Mike whoosh past her in a robe, so she started shuffling back to the safety of her room to let him take care of it.

A pang, sharp and hard, hit her. It was her last night in her bed, her last night of knowing this was her haven forever. It had changed over the years. She'd donated the collection of Pound Puppies long ago, as well as her china dolls. It had gone through at least four paint jobs, and several furniture changes, but it had always been her room.

She would miss it. She'd miss Mike and Gramps and—

"She's sleeping." She heard Mike say, his voice angry. "And even if she weren't I wouldn't let you near her."

"Five minutes with her." She heard, and her heart completely splintered. John.

"Just five minutes."

"No."

Aubrie ran back to the door of her room and listened shamelessly.

"Let him talk to her." Gramps said. "Apparently the boy has something to say."

"No." Mike said.

"Son, I haven't taken you over my knee in a long time. Don't make me try to do it now. My resulting broken hip will haunt you for decades."

"He hurt her. She's over him."

Aubrie bit her lip. Over him? Not in this lifetime, at this rate. But she was working on it. And if he came back only to crush her again, she'd have to start over. The last few weeks had been like walking on broken glass. Every step she took drew blood. Her sanity depended on believing she's be okay in time.

"This is my house, and I'm letting her see him." Gramps said.

"If you do anything to hurt my sister again, I will destroy you." Mike said.

Aubrie winced. She was a little old for the big-brother routine. And he was up against an ex-FBI guy who knew how to use a gun.

"Aubrie!" Gramps called. "Company!"

She didn't answer because she was paralyzed by fear. Not seeing John had been torture. Seeing him might be worse. She stood there until Gramps materialized at her door. "Aubrie, honey, you have company. I think you should talk to him. But it's your choice."

"What should I do, Gramps?"

"Whatever your heart says."

"My heart says, 'No way'"

"Then I'll just go say so."

"Gramps?"

He turned back. "Yes?"

"What if it says yes, too?"

"The only times you don't say yes is if the yes is pulling into an inside straight and you know you have a bunch of nos left."

"That makes absolutely no sense."

"You want better wisdom; let me have coffee before I find a guy banging on our doors."

"Okay, I'll go. Right?"

"Whatever you want. But if you don't want him running and screaming, comb your hair and wear something sexier than that granny gown."

"I love you, Gramps."

"You should. I'm the only sane person in this household."

Aubrie wasn't about to show up in something sexy. She came down in jeans and a T-shirt. She did manage to brush her hair and teeth, however. She looked like hell and she knew it. And strangely, she didn't care. She was even too sleepy to figure out what he was doing here. In any case, he got what he got. She was finished trying to impress him. Mike was still standing bulldog guard duty.

"Down, boy." She said. "Go away. I can handle this."

"Aubrie." Mike said. "He's no longer friendly territory."

"Can we go somewhere else?" John asked.

"Over my dead body." Mike said.

"It will be if you don't go away." Aubrie said. "Go away, Mike. Now."

"I won't hurt her. I promise." John said. "I just want to talk."

"Okay, but you aren't taking her out of this house."

Aubrie stared at her brother. "Excuse me?"

"Amuse me." Mike said. "By hanging out at home. Don't get in a car."

John looked pretty grim. "Are you thinking I'm going to drive her away and ravish her?"

"You've done it before. And look where we are."

John stood there for a second. And then he took one step toward Mike that had Aubrie holding her breath and wondering if she needed to get the baseball bat out of the closet.

But he stopped and didn't lift a fist, so she waited. "I respect your sister more than you do, apparently."

Aubrie had never thought about it, but a career as a referee might be in her future. "Time-out!"

"No one respects my sister more than I do."

Apparently she needed a bell or whistle or something. "Wait!"

"I respect her for sticking up for your lamebrain scheme. And for lying for you all this time when she's the honest person I know."

The ref was beginning to feel faint. "To your corners." She thought she whispered.

"We love her." Mike countered. That must have been his right punch.

"Of course you do." Lame left jab from John.

"You obviously don't." Sucker punch. Point, Mike.

"I love her more than any woman I've ever met, you jerk."

Technical knock-out. That was pretty much when the ref passed out.

Aubrie was either in heaven or hell, and three angels or devils were hovering over her. Or maybe she was in a shopping mall. Two of the angels looked suspiciously like Mike and Gramps, the other like the key to heaven. She squinted and pointed. "I'll take that one." Then she smiled. "I just made a bad choice, right? I picked the devil. Gramps taught me better than that."

"Where can I take her?" She heard her first choice ask. "And may I please have water and a cold compress?"

"She needs a doctor."

"She needs me."

"She needs all of us. But right now she's getting water and a compress and John."

"Gramps, I really think—"

"No, you don't sometimes, son. Go get the water and a cool compress. John, we have a nice guest room down here. Will that do?"

She felt the one who was probably the devil lift her, and she couldn't really complain, since she'd selected him but she was suddenly questioning her pointer finger. And as he picked her up and carried her, she wondered if she'd just consigned herself to heartbreak hell.

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	42. Chapter 42

John sat on the edge of the bed and wondered how he could possibly have done anything more wrong with this woman. He scrubbed his face and rubbed his eyes and didn't have a clue what to do next. He'd just declared before God and Gramps—who were a little interchangeable at this point—that he loved her. And he was certain neither would ever let him forget it.

He loved her. He knew it. But he'd blown it. Then again, she'd thought he was the bad one and she'd picked him anyway. That was a point in his favor. Nothing he'd put on his resume if he ever applied for a dating service, but, still, it was something.

He wrung out the towel from a bowl of cool water and laid it on her forehead again. "Talk to me, Aubrie or are you ignoring me?"

She didn't move.

"Either you're in a coma or you're avoiding looking at me. I don't like either option."

"She still didn't move.

"I'll pour this bowl of water over your face."

Not a twitch.

He checked her pulse again, and it was strong. But nothing was working. She'd dropped like a stone and he was frankly scared. It was really stupid, but he leaned down and kissed her. And her eyes fluttered open. They were foggy and her face scrunched in a who-hell-are-you look, but her eyes opened.

"Aubrie?"

"John?"

"Now that we've introduced ourselves, hi."

"What's going on?" She tried to sit up, but he held her back. "Where are we and why are you here? This is the guest room."

"Gramps made me take you here. He was afraid I'd compromise you otherwise." He touched her forehead, felt her pulse and relaxed. "I think I shocked you. But you're a slugger."

She looked around. "The guest room. Where are Mike and Gramps?"

"Leaving us alone."

Her eyes cleared. "Wait a minute. Mike would never let you near me."

"Never underestimate the power of Gramps."

Real life suddenly hit her. "What time is it? I have to get ready."

"For what?"

She sat up in bed. "I have a job! Isn't that great?"

"That's terrific." He forced water down her throat while he figured out how to phrase what he wanted to say.

It wasn't working. He had no right to stop her. Telling her he loved her would make her run. She had a career ahead of her, wherever it took her.

She stared at him. "What is it, John?"

"Maybe I have a few minutes to figure this out?"

"What's to figure?"

He took a breath. "Well, you accused me of not telling my secrets. I only have one. I mean only one that matters to you and me. The rest are work-related, and you don't care about those anyway."

"I care about everything that has to do with you."

"This would be story time."

She just stared at him as if he were the librarian from hell. "John, I don't have time for this. I only have a few hours before I fly to Georgia."

"Okay." He looked at her with effort. "I wish you all the best."

"That's not a story, John."

"I cut to the chase."

For a little thing, she had strength. She knocked him off the bed. "That's the best you can do?"

He picked himself up and rubbed his hurt butt. "What was I supposed to do? Help me, Aubrie, because I'm lost."

"I wasn't that out of it. I heard you. Why aren't you fighting for me?"

"Because you deserve to do what you want with your life?" He ventured.

"Try again."

John's immediate impulse was to pull away and tell her it was none of her business. But a stronger impulse told him to stay, to tell her the truth.

"Do you mind if I go get a glass of water first?" He asked.

"Is it that hard?"

"Yes."

"Then you never have to tell me."

"Oh, yes, I do. I'll be right back."

He made his way down to the kitchen, only to find Gramps sitting there.

"Is she okay?" Gramps asked.

"She's fine. She's being a pain."

"Oh, then she's okay."

Aubrie stayed on the bed in the guest room, because it was the safest place away from Mike. And her heart was pounding. She didn't know if she really wanted to hear John's "terrible" secret. But she didn't know if she could live not knowing it either, if it was awful.

When he came back she looked into his eyes and couldn't believe they'd ever lie. But something was terribly wrong. "Are you a murderer?" She asked.

"Not yet, but your brother's at the top of my list."

She smiled. "Scratch him off. I'll be done with him before you can load your gun. Anyone else? Like me?"

He sat down on the edge of the bed and made her drink water until she could substitute as a fountain. "What's going on Aubrie?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you leaving?"

"Hello! Because I found a job?"

"Away from here."

"I go where they ask me."

"I don't want you to go."

She pushed him away and jumped up. "How can you even say that?"

"Because I'm a selfish jerk."

"You want me to forget I have a purpose?"

"Of course not! But couldn't you have a purpose here?"

She got up and dragged him down to the parlor. Along the way she yelled. "Go away, Mike! Go away, Gramps!" And they heard muffled. "Okays."

They sat down and Aubrie, whose heart was killing her, said. "John, I want one sentence from you about what you want from me."

"You're doing this sociologist thing, aren't you?"

"Just answer the question."

He sat there for a long time, thinking. Aubrie almost wanted to clunk him. He took a breath. "I want you to love me."

Aubrie stopped wanting to clunk him, but wasn't sure how to deal with the uncertainty. "I do love you."

He glared at her. "Then you wouldn't leave."

She glared back. "I'm supposed to give up my work for you?"

"No. Just do it here."

"How about you give up your work to be with me?"

"Okay."

Aubrie stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"Not at all. Do you want me there, Aubrie?"

"Would you really do that?"

"In a heartbeat. Do you want me there?"

"In a heartbeat."

"About time!" They heard from the hall.

"Go to bed, Gramps!" Aubrie yelled back.

"Treat her right or you're toast."

"Good night, Mike."

They smiled as they grabbed on to each other.

"One other thing I need to cover, sweetheart."

"If you don't want to tell me your secret, I'll understand." Aubrie said.

"Just listen. When I was training in Quantico, I met a woman also going through the program. Her name was Krista. I fell pretty hard for her. She was smart and beautiful and ambitious. I was fairly certain that once we finished training, I'd ask her to marry me."

"You loved her that much?" She whispered.

"I thought so at the time. But now I realize what a mistake it was. One weekend she said she was going home to visit her folks before the final push. I call her there one night and they didn't know what I was talking about. She never had plans to go there."

"Where'd she go?"

"I didn't find out until she got back. She'd learned she was pregnant."

"Uh-oh."

"So without telling me, asking me, talking to me, she 'got rid of the problem'."

"Oh, my God."

"She basically told me her career came first, and nothing was going to stand in her way."

"Oh John! I'm so sorry."

"The point being, I felt utterly betrayed. And heartsick. I would have taken our baby in a heartbeat, and never asked me for a thing. But she didn't give me that choice."

"I'm so sorry." She said again.

"So you see why I was so hurt by…everything that happened here."

"Of course I do."

"But you aren't Krista. You're nothing like Krista."

"Well, I do want to have a career, John. I can't deny that."

"As well you should. You've worked hard."

"And I did lie to you."

"To protect your brother. Not to betray me, but to keep from betraying him. Trust me, you are nothing like Krista. You and I are the real thing, baby. I love you. See you Georgia."

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	43. Chapter 43

This story is done now. I want to take this time to thank everyone who read, reviewed, alerted and favorited it. You guys are awesome.

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or wrestlers in this story. I own only my ocs. This story is fiction and is to be taken that way. No Copyright Right Infringement Intended.

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

The entire clan gathered to Gramps's house for Thanks giving. Aubrie and John, Nicole and Mike, Randy and Leah—who was due in a week—and , of course, Jamie and Gramps, who were squabbling again, this time over who made the better candied yams.

Aubrie had been busy settling into her new apartment and her new job, but she'd still managed to miss her brother and grandfather like crazy. She began bawling the moment Gramps had opened the door, and an hour later she was still sniffling.

It had taken John a few months to open an office in Georgia, but he'd come down nearly every weekend since Aubrie had moved. And he'd learned so many creative ways to show her—no matter how busy he was—that she was never far from his thoughts.

Flowers arrived at least twice a week. Once she sent a singing telegram to her apartment. She was sure his secretary was coordinating it all, because Aubrie received emails from her several times a week with his itinerary, so she basically knew where John was almost all the time.

She'd been jealous for a while there when he had taken to having supper with her family Wednesday nights, but the results had been worth it. Mike was beginning to trust John again, and Gramps had all but adopted both Jamie and John.

Mike and Nicole couldn't take their eyes off each other, and Randy couldn't take his hands off of Leah. All in all, they'd come a long way from a few months ago.

John backed Aubrie into a corner. "So tell me, miss, what are you thankful for this year?"

"Well, let's see. I'm thankful for the new no-run panty hose that came out."

"And?"

"And the Skins are playing well."

"And?"

"Hmm, I love my new apartment."

"Keep going."

"Those aren't enough for you?"

"No. Dig deep. Think harder."

"Mike and Nicole seem happy."

"They're actually almost sickening."

"Unlike us, huh?"

He bent and kissed her. "Right. We're very discreet."

She laughed. "Oh, I almost forgot!"

"Yes?"

"Leah and Randy asked me to be R.J.'s godmother."

He gave her an indignant look. "You're not trying hard enough."

"Oh! You mean you? Yeah, I guess you're okay."

"Such a ringing endorsement."

She laughed, but then sobered. "I'm so glad you'll be near me almost permanently soon."

"Right after the holidays."

"I still don't understand why you're holding out on moving in with me." She said.

"I told you."

"Right. No marriage, no cohabitation. You sure have a strange sense of ethics."

"Maybe so, but I'm standing firm on that one."

Right then, Gramps and Jamie put out the call for everyone to gather to the table. It was so crammed with food, they could probably fee a third-world nation.

Once everyone's plate was full. Gramps held up this champagne glass and everyone followed suit, even though Leah's was filled with lemon water.

"To friends old and new." Gramps said.

"To friends."

"And now a Mizanin family tradition. We go around the room and everyone mentions what they're mot grateful for. Let's begin with Jamie, who I personally think should be grateful for my cooking lessons."

Jamie snorted. "That'll be the day. Well, of course, all the great new friends. But I'm most grateful I'm getting a new roommate."

John said. "Huh?"

Jamie shrugged. "You're moving to Atlanta. I don't want to stay in that house all by myself."

"Who's moving in with you?" John asked suspiciously.

"No one. I'm moving in here."

"What?"

"Gramps has graciously offered me a room."

"Oh, Jamie, that's wonderful!" Aubrie said, who thought it was a perfect solution. She'd been so worried about Gramps the last few months. She looked at John. "See, your sister has no problem with cohabitation."

Gramps cleared his throat. "Randy?"

"That's easy. My gorgeous wife and our baby. And, of course, my new career, thanks to John."

"Leah?"

"A healthy baby and a grounded husband." Leah said.

"Nicole?"

"So many things I can't even name them all. I'm grateful for newfound happiness."

"Mike?"

"To second chances." He said, smiling to Nicole, who blushed.

"Aubrie?" Gramps said.

"I'm grateful to be getting a new roommate shortly, too." And she smiled at a suddenly gaping John.

"John?"

"I'm grateful to be able to accept Aubrie's marriage proposal."

Everyone laughed, because they all knew the significance of Aubrie's invitation and John's acceptance. The negotiations over their future living arrangements—and marital status—had been an ongoing battle.

"And now you, Gramps." Aubrie said, squeezing John's hand.

"That's easy. I'm grateful for love."

"Hear, hear."

And then they dug in.

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